


Be Free like Northern Folk

by daliarod



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Jon Snow, F/M, Jon is the King of the North, Love/Hate, Sansa is a wildling, Slow Burn, Stuck in a Cabin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daliarod/pseuds/daliarod
Summary: “I told you not to move? I could have commanded my direwolf to attack you?”But you didn’t, she thought. She fiercely returned his gaze attempting to break free from his grasp. Some of his dark curls were released from his pulled hair. His breath mingled with hers, her chest rising heavily against his own. He squinted his dark grey eyes, “are you alone? I’m not going to let you go until you speak.” His face soften and searched her eyes for an answer.Wildlings Sansa and Ygritte roam south of the wall only to be captured by the King of the North Jon. They must find a way back North, or will love condemn her to stay?





	1. Direwolf

“We shouldn’t venture too far out, Ygritte.” Sansa warned the red-head who had kneeled between the bushes to stare at the magical beast. “We should start heading back to the others.  We only said we will be gone a fortnight; we must leave the Wolfswood before the sun sets.” They had been traveling south of the Wall to raid storage cottages with a group of other Free-Folk. They needed weapons, clothing, and seeds to take back to their clan. However, Sansa and Ygritte had told the group that they will go to the forest before they head back north. Their true intentions were never disclosed. Sansa wanted to find winter blue roses, while Ygritte wanted new furs for herself.

“Look here princess, we found your stupid blue roses. Now it’s my turn to hunt the beast,” Sansa looked sadly at the beautiful white direwolf. “They say that direwolves are near extinction and will you look at that it’s an albino! What a prize. The others will surely envy me when they see me wearing the white furs of a direwolf.” Ygritte pulled the arrow out of her back pouch and placed it carefully on her bow. Sansa couldn’t bare looking at such a scene and closed her eyes. It wasn’t until they heard the sound of hooves that startled the direwolf causing it to run.

“Rats! Stay hidden. We have company, those filthy kneelers.” Ygritte pushed her down to the ground and leaned against her to be incognito between the bushes. The horses approached the open area where the direwolf once stood. They could hear the voices of more than one man. They halted.

“Ghost, seems to sense something. The Wildlings are close, farmers have claimed that they had awoken with their grain stolen. We must hunt them down, they are a threat to our people.” One of the men spoke with a deep low voice.

“Aye, my King. I have reports that a group of Widlings were seen fleeing by the Shadow Tower near the Wall. They won’t be coming back, at least not until their resources run low again.” A second man spoke.

Sansa’s stomach dropped. _They left us!_ She looked at Ygritte who seemed to be fuming with anger. She mouthed curses under her breath.

“We need to be faster next time. Now that we have tracked their raid patterns it will be easier to catch them before they strike.” The first man spoke again. The horses galloped away, she felt relieved that they were still hidden and weren't spotted. 

“I’m going to kill Tormund. Mance will hear about this. Leaving us here. Especially you!” Ygritte stood up reaching for her hand pulling her up.

“I can’t believe it either but I’m sure they had a good reason. They probably did not have no other choice but to flee.” She brushed off the snow from her furs. _I should have stayed with Val, she had warned me about these southern folks, they have no love for the Free-Folk, thinking we are savages._ However, she insisted her father let her ride south with the others when he initially forbade it.

 

> “Sansa, it’s too dangerous for you.” He looked at her with fear in his eyes. “The Wall is tricky to climb, I don’t know what I will do without you. I lost you mother, I wouldn’t dare think about a life without you either.”
> 
> She held her Father’s hands. “Please father, I want to see the land my mother was born in.”
> 
> “Your mother was born leagues and leagues beyond the Wall. Tormund will only ride to the neighboring towns.” She grew irritated. There was no way around her stubborn Father but if there was something they had in common is that she was as stubborn.
> 
> She stood in front of him. “I _will_ go south, you went south to steal mother!”
> 
> “It’s different, Sansa-”
> 
> She cut him off. “How is it different? I know how to protect myself. You saw how I left Rattleshirt.” He had tried to take her from her tent with the intention of making her his lover but she easily broke his hand when he clumsily tried to pull her away. “I can defend myself. You taught me well. Besides Ygritte will be coming as well and she’s good with the bow.”
> 
> He sighed heavily. “Fine my child, but just don’t be bringing home a southerner.” They both laughed at his jest, for she only had intentions of bringing home blue winter roses.

 

“Clearly, they could have send Orell's eagle to come look for us. Come we must remain quiet, we don’t know if they are still roaming the forest. We must make camp, I saw a hollow tree nearby we could sleep in.” They carefully roamed to find the tree. They built a small fire to cook the rabbit that Ygritte hunted earlier. As soon as the rabbit had roasted they put out the fire with the snow.

The sky was dark and full of stars. It was no different than the sky beyond the Wall yet it didn't feel right, being in these strange lands made her feel uneasy. She wanted to go back home plant her seeds once winter ended so she can grow her own roses. They both slept side by side warming themselves while the hollow of the tree protected them from the cold winds.

She had awoken with a shove. “Wake up sleepy! We need to head out to reach the Wall.” Ygritte was ready to go. She had eaten her portion of cold cooked rabbit giving her the rest of what remained. They scouted the area to make sure no kneelers were roaming around before they can make their way out of the forest.

They had almost reached the end, before she needed to relieve herself.

“Now? But we are almost out. Can you hold it for a little more.” the small red-head seemed annoyed with her.

“I’ve been holding it for far too long already. I’ll be fast, I promise.” She gave Ygritte her bag of roses and seeds to hold for her. She hid between a few trees. After she was done she used some fresh snow to cover it. It wasn’t until she saw the beast again. The white direwolf was eating from an elk carcass he probably killed. She shouldn’t have approached the direwolf but she was lured by its beauty.

She slowly walked towards the beast before it turned to face her, its face was bigger than her torso. She was more scared of him than the beast seemed of her. The direwolf looked curiously at her as she reached her hand out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A deep low voice came from the trees and a man emerged looking at her cautiously. “I can command my direwolf to kill you right where you stand so don’t move Wildling.” It was the same voice as one of the men in the forest who they called King. She had frozen, words couldn’t escape her mouth. Her feet felt glued to the ground. _Run stupid, run you fool!_ She then thought of Ygritte. _I can’t scream, Ygritte will be taken too_. Ygritte had a better chance to flee and warn her Father that she had been captured.

“Are you alone, Wildling?” he stood next to his huge beast placing a hand on its side making it retreat behind him.

She did not speak, she just stood.

“Are you a mute? I’m speaking to you, girl.”

Rage filled her, she needed to escape this dark haired man. She quickly turned to make a run for it but it wasn’t long until she was tackled by the man. She squirmed against him to free herself but that made him grip her hands tighter above her head and press his body against hers.

“I told you not to move? I could have commanded my direwolf to attack you?”

 _But you didn’t._ She fiercely returned his gaze attempting to break free from his grasp. Some of his dark curls were released from his pulled hair. His breath mingled with hers, her chest rising heavily against his own. He squinted his dark grey eyes, “Are you alone? I’m not going to let you go until you speak.” His face soften and searched her eyes for an answer.

She began to panic and tears formed, instantly began flowing from her eyes. He looked at her perplex, “Stop that! I’m not hurting you.” She nodded as a response and began moving her hips once more to push him off her.

“Kneeler! Get off or this arrow will pierce your pretty face.” They both turned to see Ygritte with her bow on her hands. He slowly let go of her hands yet he did not remove himself from on top. She rubbed her wrists as soon as he released her from his grasp, laying still on the ground.

The direwolf began pacing slowly towards Ygritte preparing to pounce. Yet it was silent, there were no growls to threaten her.

“That is unwise. I have men patrolling these lands, they know I’m here. If you have not realized, Ghost, can snap your neck in two.” He pointed at the direwolf that was getting closer to Ygritte yet she stood her grown unafraid.

“Aye I’m sure your beast can but not before I release this arrow. Besides I’m fast enough that I can kill your pretty pet and wear it as a cloak.” Sansa’s eyes went back and forth from the man on top of her to her companion. He had smirked at Ygritte amused by her boldness. She grew bold as well. She clasped her hands tightly together and with all her force knocked them against his hard chest. He was taken aback losing his balance and fell backwards. She quickly got up and reached Ygritte and took her hand to make a run for it.

They both ran as if a bear was chasing them. “Here lets hide under the willow.” She told the petite woman. They hid among the drooping branches of the immense willow tree. Ygritte hugged her tightly. “I thought I was going to lose you!” she then proceeded to hit her gently behind her head. “Mance would have never forgiven me if I didn't put up a fight to rescue you.”

“And I was beginning to think you actually did it because you love me.” She teased whispering back at her.

“Quiet, the direwolf can still smell us. I don’t think we can escape these kneelers. I can delay them while you run. You can reach the river and keep heading north.”

Sansa frowned, “Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving you. Is that understood?” She lowered her gaze to her hands and realized that Ygritte did not have her bag. Ygritte noticed as well.

“I…I’m sorry Sansa. I must have dropped it when we ran.” She looked down ashamed. Sansa raised her chin.

“It’s fine, they’re stupid roses anyway. I didn't have much in there, just a dull dagger.” They heard the horses roaming the willow tree. They knew their time of freedom will soon be over, she held Ygritte closer.

Four men emerged from the branches and Ygritte reached for her arrow and bow. The arrow went flying piercing one of the men in the shoulder, he fell down in agony while the others began sprinting forwards separating them and disarming Ygritte. They both were pushed to kneel on the cold grown. They both snarled at the men. Ygritte began yelling filthy words at them.

“That’s enough!” The dark-haired man yelled at his men. “Hold them in place.” He looked down at his fallen man who was still twisting in the ground from the pain. He slowly brought him up just to take out the arrow from his back. The man yelled even more, making Sansa wince. “You’ll live, she only got your shoulder. I thought you were more skilled than that, Wildling.” Ygritte only glared at him. “What are your names?” he looked at them both, his piercing grey eyes looking at her soul. “Not one at a time,” he chuckled approaching them closer. More men had gathered around them holding them in place.

He looked at Ygritte, “What’s your name?”

“Ygritte.” She spat on his black leather boots. Sansa looked at her confused that she will tell him her name. He smiled at her, not a cruel smile, but it was still not a kind smile either. He looked at her next. She lowered her gaze yet he reached to grip her face to meet his eyes. Ygritte began struggling to be released but the men only gripped her tighter and kept her kneeled.

He kept his hand on her face but reduced his hold. “And yours? Or it’s true that you are mute?”

“Your Grace, I heard them talking to each other.” Said one of the men that was holding her hands to her back. The other two men holding her shoulders that kept her kneeled agreed.

“That’s so?” He looked at the man behind her then back at her. He gently brushed his thumb on her lips. Making her extremely angry she instinctively tried to bite it, yet he was quick enough and removed his hand completely from her face. He looked amused and that only made her angrier. _I will wipe that stupid smile of your face, I hate them. I hate you._ “Very well then, if she won’t speak then so be it. Ygritte will let us know their purpose--”

Ygritte snapped back, “To hell I will, I might be able to talk but I won’t tell you anything. Fuck you and your kneelers.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know the gravity of your situation. If you want to be released I suggest you cooperate. Help them up.” The men raised them to their feet keeping their arms behind their backs. “Ygritte…Mute," he looked at her for a reaction she just coldly stared, "You are my prisoners.” With that the King walked away from them. She noticed her bag wrapped around his belt bouncing from his hip every step he took.


	2. Blue Winter Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :))!!

The bag contained nothing more than blue winter roses, a few seeds, and a beautiful Valyrian steel dagger decorated with rose gold and bright red rubies on the hilt. The satchel itself was adorned with flying black crows and a mix of white and grey wolves dancing below them. The second much simpler bag contained only a few arrows, two pairs of climbing spikes, and a steel knife. It had no decorations except in the inside containing the name of the Wildling Ygritte, delicately stitched with red string, resembling the embroidery of the first bag.

“Any clues, your Grace?” said the older man inspecting the wildlings’ belongings. “Seems to me they are not very threatening. If we can make them reveal their leader's upcoming plans perhaps we can put an end to their raids.”

Jon looked tiredly at Ser Davos, “How? One of them seems to be a mute while the other one keeps yapping curses. Don’t be fooled by these women, they might prove to be dangerous.” He took the Valyrian dagger placing it on a leather cover on his belt sinking into his chair.

“You’re right. It is quite suspicious that these two were far away from their group.” He looked at the dagger on Jon’s hip. “Who knows what they did to acquire such a priced possession. More farmers have reported missing inventory, one smith reported that they attacked him and stole all of his equipment. Their raids are becoming more frequent they might be preparing for war or battle, perhaps with other clans, or even with us.”

“Aye, it seems.  Whatever they are preparing for we need to be ready and two steps ahead. We cannot let these Wildlings surprise us. They know our land more than we know what’s beyond that wall.” It scared Jon to know little of his enemy besides what he learned from his Father and his Father learned from his and so forth. He needed to know more.

Jon’s mind wandered back to the red- heads that were confined in Winterfell’s cells. Specifically the one with the ice blue eyes. He was captivated by her beauty the moment she emerged from the trees to touch Ghost. Her eyes full of wonder, hair rich and full flowing freely in the wind like the leaves of the Heart Tree. He was enchanted by this wildling beauty, she was not even close to Ghost when he remembered who she was, an enemy. Ghost had surprised Jon how carefully he stared at her; the direwolf usually showed hostility towards strangers yet Ghost didn’t even flinch when she reached her arm out. Jon revealed himself to warn her, he did not want Ghost to come to his senses and attack such a beauty.

As soon as she saw him her face had grown pale with fear in her eyes. _She seemed more scared of me than the direwolf._ He needed to know who she was but in an instant she started fleeing. He was smitten and he couldn’t let her get away.

He did not know what else to do but to run after her and tossed her to the grown. She had put up a good fight, her strong legs had kicked, her hands pushed hard against his chest, her hips twisting against the inner of his thighs. She succumbed to him once he pressed his body against hers, he held her wrists tightly above her head. Her long auburn hair laid tangled on the white snow, she was a beauty to behold.

She had glared at him fiercely with her ice blue eyes, her jaw clenched. She had every right to be angry for holding her against her will. His voice had sounded deeper and raspier than usual, “Are you alone? I’m not going to let you go until you speak.” Her eyes began to water and suddenly tears flowed down, she began to struggle under him.

He was confused that this fierce woman who had not moments ago put up a fight had started crying. He wanted to comfort her but remembered the reason he was in this situation, _she’s a wildling. She doesn’t deserve any sympathy._ He told her to stop but that only made her cry even more resisting his hold. It wasn’t until another red-head threatened him with an arrow that made him retreat. The beauty had wiped her tears and massaged her wrists. _Was I holding her too tight?_ His attention returned to the standing wildling, _they are bold._ Once he pointed towards his direwolf the standing Wildling began to look nervous. He smirked victoriously yet it did not last long, he was knocked against his chest falling on his back.

He cursed her as they both ran disappearing into the trees. He believed that they had escaped but turned to see a dark blue leather bag on the ground. He had Ghost smell the items inside and told his men to follow Ghost to capture them.

As soon as he saw her again he was determined to know everything about her, who she was, her name, where exactly she was from. He acted coldly towards them, he did not want her or his men to realize he had a soft spot for the wildling. She had kneel defiantly while the other red-head had shook violently to be let go from his men. He only dared brush his thumb against her rosy lips but removed his hand from her soft face when he realized she was fuming with anger, she meant to bite him. He was intrigued by her but she was still an enemy, he couldn’t let her beauty blind him from the truth.

His Father had died by the hands of a man that called himself the King of the Free-Folk. Jon swore he would not stop until he can avenge his father and his people, even if it meant killing innocent wildlings. _There are no innocent wildlings, they are all the same_.

“King Jon, are you feeling well.” His Commander of the Kings Guard spoke with concern bringing him back to the present.

“Aye, Commander Brienne. Just a little restless that’s all. It isn’t every day you come face to face with Wildlings. You never know when it’s going to be your last.” _Like my Father, wished I could have hugged him one last time before he left._ “Any trouble, getting them in their cells?”

“Yes, your grace. They both fought but nothing that we cannot handle. Unfortunately, Ser Jory was injured, they attacked him when he brought them water. So we separated them, they are in opposite cells now.”

_Of course they will fight, they aren’t different from the rest._ Jon stood making his way towards the window, “Don’t let them sleep I want them as tired as possible. They want to misbehave, then we must treat them as such.” He looked outside, the sun was setting. “Tell Ser Jory not to give them any water, nor bread.”

Brienne looked displeased, “Your Grace, I don’t mean to question your decisions but they are still people. We cannot let them starve to death.”

“I just want them to be as vulnerable as possible. They won’t be rebellious if they are hungry, thirsty, and tired.” Her auburn hair flashed through his eyes. “Ser Davos, please collect all missing inventory from the towns, I want to know how much they took. We must keep track of everything.” The older man agreed and made his way out the door. “I shall see how our prisoners are doing.”

“Of course, your Grace. I’ll lead the way.” He couldn’t brush off the thought of needing to see her again, to be in her presence.

Brienne had come to a stop as they arrived to the cells. She pointed at the end of the narrow hall, “Those two at the end. Ygritte is on the left and the Mute is on the right cell.”

Jon walked briskly to the end where he met the Beauty’s blue eyes, she was sitting on the dirty ground holding her legs close to her chest. She glared at him with disgust and resilience. He felt his blood boil, he should be the one who’s angry. _They’re the ones invading my land and terrorizing my people._ He faced the other Wildling that leaned against the wall. “Do you like your living arrangements? You are both very important guests here in Winterfell, I wish nothing but for you both to be comfortable.” He turned to look at the Beauty once more but she had turned around, her back towards him while facing the darkened stone wall. He gritted his teeth, _how dare she ignore me?_

Ygritte only laughed sarcastically, “Thank you, my King for your hospitality. Who knew these Southerners were so welcoming. Right, Sa… um… somebody should have told us sooner.”

He realized that the Wildling still had high spirits in her, it aggravated him. “I wouldn’t be making jests, Wildling.” He marched to his right. “And you!” that brought her attention back to him. Yet he forgot what he was going to say when he saw how beautiful she looked with her long hair disheveled. Her eyes widened, he looked down to see what she was looking at. The dagger. He smirked, “is this yours?” her eyes went back and forth between his eyes and the Valyrian steel. She stood, she was taller than he initially thought she was. She had parted her lips to speak yet nothing came out. She looked behind at Ygritte.

“That’s not yours!” he heard Ygritte say. But he kept his gaze fixed on the Wildling in front of him.

“If you speak, I might be kind enough to give it back to you.” He lied, of course, she didn’t need to know that. He walked closer to her cell seeing that her ice blue eyes had darkened like the sea before a storm. She stood her ground. He sighed heavily, “I’m beginning to think that you are indeed a mute. You are no use to me if you don’t talk.” He wanted to hear her speak, to see if her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her and if he had to frighten her so be it.

Brienne approached him, “Do you want me to get rid of the girl, your Grace?” The Beauty eyed his commander though no emotion seemed to give away her thoughts.

“Don’t worry, she will give in. I bet anything she will be the one who will be telling us where the rest of her tribe is. Let’s see how long she can keep her little farce.”

Her face was expressionless. _Why won’t you speak to me? Don’t be stupid Jon, she’s your prisoner not your friend. She has no reason to speak to her captor._ He turned his direction towards Ygritte “You should know that I am a merciful King, I’m only trying to protect my people. If you two are reasonable you will answer my questions when I return to your cells. If not you won’t live very long.”

Jon began walking only to stop to look back at her. She was starting to sit down, she pulled her legs to her chest and lowered her chin to rest it above her knees. She kindly smiled to someone behind him, he turned around to see that a guard had his eyes set on her. He was overcome with jealousy, _why is she smiling at him?_ Once the guard realized Jon was looking at him he straighten himself. He strode towards the guard, “Your name?”

The young lad began to stuttered, “I… I’m Pod, your Grace.” He glared down at the man. “Don’t speak to her, don’t look at her, and don’t even think about her. Is that understood?”

The man looked bewildered and frightened, “I am unsure, your Grace. Who are you referring to? The Wildlings?”

Jon clenched him teeth. _No, just her, you idiot_. He shouldn’t behave this way, she was just a wildling. Perhaps she had a husband or a lover beyond the wall wishing to go back with him. Jon felt foolish threatening the young man for some woman he had just meet this day. “Of course, both of them. They cannot be trusted. Especially the Mute.” Pod turned to eye the Beauty, he quickly shook his head.

“Yes, your Grace. I won’t look, speak, nor think about the Wildlings. Especially the Mute.” He repeated his words carefully.

Jon was pleased. He brought his voice down to a whisper, “Very good, remember don’t give them food nor drink, don’t let them sleep. I want them both begging to speak to me. I won’t be coming if they are not.” The young guard nodded. Jon left without looking at her, he couldn’t bear seeing the disdain in her eyes while she gave another man sweet smiles. _She’s a dirty Wildling, she will never be at your level._ Yet Jon wanted her despite her station, despite being an enemy to the North. He wanted to make her his, but he wouldn’t dare possess her body without her wanting him as much as he wants her.

Brienne followed closely interrupting his thoughts awkwardly clearing her throat, “King Jon, I don’t mean to be blunt but you--”

He cut her off, “I’m not in the mood for you counsel, Commander. I’m going to retire to my chambers.” The tall women stood silently as he stormed off.

As soon as he reached his chambers he removed his leather jerkin, reaching for the brass basin to wet his face and neck. He felt extremely hot despite the snow falling against his window. _Is this the affect she has on me?_

He prepared himself to get ready for bed, yet he felt restless. As soon as he closed his eyes he would picture themselves back in the Wolfswood. He had wished he had taken advantage of the situation and steal a kiss from her.

His Nan use to recount tales and tales of the Free-Folk beyond the wall and their practices. That in order for a man to deem worthy of a lady’s love that they had to steal her. If the woman fought and successfully made the man retreat, he was unfit to bed her. However, if the man was able to take her, he proved himself to be hers. He thought the act to be barbaric, here no one acted in impulse rather they married to form alliances and for the peace of the kingdom.

He had once wished to have a taste of freedom like the Wildlings. To roam the vast lands without a care in the world just living for the sake of living. His father’s death was a crude awakening, he had the weight of his Kingdom on his shoulders. He can never be like them. He no longer dreamed of such fairy tales, being a grown man made him realize that living like a Wildling was no way of living, there was no guarantee of surviving tomorrow. _How can she live in such a dreadful place?_

Her face resurfaced in his thoughts. He had encountered countless of women in his life yet none seem to compare to her beauty, unpolished grace and passion. Words he never thought to use to describe a Wildling. In just one day she had enchanted him. Not a word uttered and he seemed to be the one loss of words. He couldn’t believe such a gem laid hidden beyond the wall. _Snap out of it Jon! You are only lusting over her nothing else._ He leaned against the oak headboard staring at the dark candle light in front of him, the blue roses laying on the wooden table, casting shadows on it. _Perhaps I should just bed her that would ease my lust for this woman, she is just a Wildling. I did steal her after all. She’s mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Any thoughts? please let me know. Miss seeing Jonsa on the screen but until then i can write them together.


	3. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! My computer stopped charging so I had to buy a new one. Then school started... but here we are with a new chapter. Made it a little longer than the others just to make up for it :)

Her hands ached from trying to wrench the steel bars free. She was angry and tired of being locked up in a cage. She couldn’t tell how long they have been in the dark lit cells, there were no windows to tell the days from the nights. Every time she tried to close her eyes and rest, a guard will clank his sword against the bars to wake her. She tried to be passive about their situation but now she was becoming restless.

“You cannot treat us this way! We are not animals!” she kicked and gripped the steel bars failing to even damage them. The guard that they attacked when attempting to escape laughed at her, “Aye, you are worse than an animal. You’re a savage.” He was close enough to her cell that Sansa spat on his face. He wiped it off angrily, “If my King didn’t want you alive I would have killed you for the disrespect. Once he is done, I’ll have my way with you. Then I can know what else that pretty little mouth can do.” He turned to look at Ygritte who for a while had been resting against the stone wall. “Wildling! Wake up.” His sword hitting the bars startling Ygritte, she clumsily rose to her feet.

“You’re a sick man. You and your King. We have told you already we don’t know anything about no plans. I just wanted new furs and my companion over there wanted roses. You confiscated everything we brought with us. We are no one to the free-folk, just folks.”

“Then if you aren’t important then you shouldn’t worry your pretty head about it. The sooner our King realizes you’re both useless. I can have my fun.” He looked at Ygritte up and down and gave her a twisted smile.

“You don’t know what we are capable. We disarmed you before and we can do it again, Kneeler.” Ygritte kept her gaze at the man. He looked at her nervously, “You are both weak. You’ve been without food, water, and sleep for almost three days. What strength will you both have?” The man was spun around as a hand gripped his shoulder.

“Is that any way to speak to them? They might be prisoners, but they are still human. I won’t have you around them any longer you are relieved of your post Jory.” The man looked displeased but didn’t say a word as the tall woman sent him off.

“Not all of us in this castle are like him. We are honorable, we just want what is best for our people. Safety is all we are asking. If any of you would like to say the reason of your frequent attacks on our people, we won’t harm you any further. We need the truth.” Out of all the people that have guarded their cells the tall women was the kindest. She spoke to them as equals rather than belittling them because they were Free Folk. Ygritte looked at the women suspiciously.

“Like I said I don’t know anything.”

The blonde women turned to look at Sansa, “How about you? Do you know anything? I know you talk. It must be frustrating to be here helpless. If you know about certain plans, you can free yourself,” she looked at Ygritte, “you can also help free your friend. On my honor, I will make sure you are freed. But first help us.”

Her Father is the King-of-the-North, of course she knows things. After her mother passed away she had counseled her Father on keeping the tribes and clans united as well as warm and fed for the seasons. While her brother Robb will devise battle plans and raids for the upcoming war.

She wished she could comply and be free, to go back North and be with her family beyond the wall. She did not care for the South. Sansa sadly gazed at Ygritte who looked hopeful at her. _I can’t Ygritte. I risk hurting our people, my family._ Sansa only shook her head.

 The women sighed heavily, “You’re only hurting yourself. King Jon won’t take your silence lightly. You might not know anything like your friend Ygritte but being defiant will become your downfall.” The tall women moved down the hall where a new guard had stationed himself. It was the young man that kept staring at her, _Pod_ , they made eye-contact and he quickly looked away.

“Your shift will be a little longer, I had to discard Jory from his watch. Same rules apply, Podrick. I hope they can come to their senses soon.” Pod avoided looking at their direction. He was lenient, often he would let them close their eyes for a while then shyly wake them up.

“Just tell them lies. At this point they will accept anything. It is obvious they are desperate for answers.” Ygritte quietly whispered at her.

“I know I can lie, What if I do? What comes next? Do you think they will truly let us be free to go happily North. Go our separate ways without no proof that we won’t retaliate. If I lie, what makes you think they won’t hurt our people? They only want their people safe but not once did the tall women say she will keep us safe.” She looked at Pod who only dumbly stared at the wall paying no mind to their conversation.

“We should have stayed with the group. We never venture this down south, only towards the Umber lands.” Ygritte had collapsed at the corner of her cell covering her face with her dirty hands.

“It’s not our fault. We will find a way out. I know it.” She walked at the far end of her cell, “Pod?” she called out hoping that the young man will find courage to talk to her. His face and ears had turned slightly red. “Isn’t that your name? Pod?” the man had walked up the hall to her cell, he nodded gently.

“Pod, can you please help us?” giving him a sweet smile.

“Yes, my lady… I mean no. Not the lady part, you are beyond a lady more like a queen. I don’t know why I'm talking to you.” Pod had become nervous pacing in front of her.

“I’m not asking for much. Just food or drink.”

“Or maybe a new empty pot to piss in.” Ygritte yelled from her corner. Pod turned wearily at her, his face reddening even more. She looked like a mess, Sansa probably looked the same. Red hair tangled and disheveled from her braids, _we must truly look wild_.

“I can give you a new pot, but no food or drink you’re not our guest only prisoners. I’m sorry.” He began to walk away when Sansa reached for his arm. He froze on the spot, “yes?”

“If…If I have information to give. What do you think your King will do to us afterwards?” It wasn’t a trick question, all she wants is to be free to go home. But she isn’t stupid enough to believe they are leaving unharmed.

“He will surely let you both go. I’m sure. He is honorable and loved by us all. Except for a few, ah please ignore that. He’s a good King, alright. Is just that you are a Wildling, he doesn’t like Wildlings very much. Not after...” his voice trailing off.

She removed her hand from him, “Are we so different from you Southerners? We are flesh and bone. We meant no harm, we are survivors in the North.” Even though the North was her home it had become harder and harder to live without scouting and raiding for supplies. It is their way of life.

“This is the North.” He slowly walked away and stood down the hall, staring blankly at the wall. She did not know how long they sat in silence but it seemed that the night has come by the switch in guards.

Her stomach growled but she kept ignoring its calls for food. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, and perhaps smelly. She turned to look at Ygritte who was a sickly yellow color. She began to worry but there was nothing that she can do. She shut her eyes to escape her harsh reality. She imagine herself back in her mother’s tent sewing and mending the clothes of her family. She imagined being with her Father and reading to him songs and poems from scripts he surely took from the southern folks for her.

“You can’t sleep.” The guard used his sword to make noise against the bars. _I wasn’t sleeping. How can I sleep in a foreign place?_ He continue hitting the bars, but she refused to open her eyes. “I said no sleeping!” the man yelled. She heard Ygritte chuckling in her cell until it became laughter.

“What are you going to do? Open her eyes for her so she won’t sleep? Go ahead.”

“You shut up, you talk too much and apparently this one doesn’t talk enough.” The sound of the metals continue enough to make her go mad but she didn’t care. _Ygritte is right he cannot force me to open my eyes._ She then heard keys shuffling and her gate opening. She was fast enough to scurry back against the wall before the man could reach her. He was inside the cell with her, when she grabbed the chamber pot and threw her waste at his face. The man disgustingly yelped and began rubbing his eyes, smearing the liquid across them. She took the opportunity to take his sword from his hands. The man painfully tried to open his eyes to look at her, “You won’t get far, be smart and hand me back my sword.” His hands covered in filth slowly moved in front.

“Don’t you dare take a step. Stay back.” Sansa had never actually wielded a sword she never needed to truly protect herself. Her father was King, nobody will even dare to harm her. Whenever a man will get the bright idea to steal her from her tent she easily outwit them to never return. Only Rattleshirt was clumsy enough to be drunk enough for her to break his wrist easily.

The guard looked furious but backed away slowly. She reached the gate stepping out locking the gate behind her. She turned to Ygritte’s gate, her palms had begun sweating fumbling around the keys in attempt to open her cell.

“There we go.” Ygritte smiled stepping out of her cell; frail as ever she took the sword away from Sansa. “I’ll take it from here, you were shaking.” She walked across to look at the man. “Thank you for your hospitality but it seems like we outstayed our welcome.”

“You’re a cunt.” The man growled at her. “You’ll pay for this slight.”

“No, you’ll pay.” She drove the sword through the man’s abdomen and twisted as she pulled out. Blood covered the sword, the man quickly fell to his knees then collapsed to the grown. Sansa looked in horror, she did not know how long she was holding her breath realizing she needed fresh air. She snapped back to reality when Ygritte shook her. “Let’s go, c’mon.” She looked down at the body. “They treated us like shit. They don’t deserve our sympathy.” Sansa knew that but as the man bled out in the floor, everyone was the same. _We bled red no matter where you are from._

They reached the end of the hall and looked up the dark lit staircase. They carefully ascended. These were strange and dangerous grounds. A man laid dying in her cell, they won’t think them so defenseless now. An oak door stood in their way from the open air and the dark cells of Winterfell. The moon light was high in the sky, stars lighting the dark night. The door was locked but she carefully tried every key until one turned. Sansa’s heart was nearly leaping through her throat, the taste of freedom was so close yet it was further away than ever. They were free from their cells but they were still prisoners among the walls of this castle.

“What about our things?” she wondered about her belongings. Her mother had helped her embroider her bag when she was a child it carried great sentiment. Her dagger was lost to her knowing that her captor will never return it.

“We must forget about them if we want to live. Sansa, I know they meant a lot to you but we must survive first. We can come back with more men and women to raid the castle.” Sansa understood but she never wanted to return. She slowly opened the oak door, emerging outdoors. They made their way to the smell of horse shit. Vigilant Sana kept an eye outside the stables while Ygritte attempted to lure some horses.

In other circumstances, Sansa would have loved this castle. She had once dreamed living in a stable home, having walls to feel protected instead of roaming the North in tents not knowing when someone will attack. The court yard even though empty carried life, hay and grain laying in crates. Sansa’s heart almost went out her throat when she believed she saw a soldier but it was just a training barrel with armor.

“Sansa” Ygritte faintly whispered. Her head snapped to her quickly. “I have prepared two horses. We must ride hard and fast.” Sansa desperately nodded wanting to leave more than anything. She noticed Ygritte carrying a bow and arrows.

“Where did you get that?”

Ygritte cheekily smiled. “I found it.” S _he lies._ “He won’t be needing it anymore anyway.” _She’s killing for our survival. These are our enemies, don’t feel bad._ Sansa followed her to the stables and mounted a dark black stallion while Ygritte had a brown mare. “There must be guards at the gate. I’ll handle them you just ride forward.”

“Ygritte! I’m not leaving you behind.” She snarled. “We both ride north. No matter what.”

“You are as stubborn as your Father. He’s going to kill me if you don’t return, Sansa.” She mounted her horse fixing the mare’s braids to use as reins. 

Tears threaten to spill. “We will. We _both_ ride forward.”

There was a queer silence in the yard, the gates were open. No men standing to guard them. “It’s strange. Why is it that no one is here, guarding their opened gates?” Sansa questioned if they had known they have escaped laying a trap for them.

“Or perhaps they lay sleeping in their beds. The night is not young, we must go before sunrise. Stay close.” Ygritte galloped and Sansa followed suite.  They reached the gate in a flash and kept going forward. She felt cold fresh snowflakes on her face and the wind whipping her hair. She looked back frighten to see if anyone was behind them. Only snow separated them and the castle’s gates.

The sun’s rays were beginning to peak from the horizon. Sansa’s thighs were sore from riding all night, but they rode through the forests avoiding the roads. The snow was getting thicker as it fell from the sky, the flurries of snow clouded her vision. However, the horse never missed a step making her feel safe even on the run. Panic grew over her once she couldn't hear Ygritte’s horse and yelled out her name. There was no response, Sansa tried to look beyond the snow but she only saw white. _Have I lost her?_ She tapped her foot on the horse riding harder to find Ygritte.

“Sansa!” she heard Ygritte’s voice called out to her. She was close, “I’m here!” she desperately yelled back not wanting to lose her being so close to freedom. Her mare came close to hers bringing her in for a hug. “I thought I lost you, what did I say about staying next to me?” she nudge Sansa’s shoulder. In the far distance they heard hounds viciously howling.

“They are hunting for us! Get on my horse.” Ygritte obeyed taking Sansa’s arm mounting behind preparing her bow and arrow. Shadows emerged from the storm of snow. The hounds began gaining on the black stallion ever so often nipping on its hoofs. They kept moving back and forth as the horse kicked to get rid of the hounds. _It’s not fair we were so close. So close._ The horse rose on its hind legs, both losing their grip collapsing harshly on the fresh snow. Sansa raised her hand in front of her face to stop the storm of snow from blinding her. She was quickly on her feet being pulled by Ygritte running after the horse, yet it was too fast and the harsh cold winds kept blinding her from seeing ahead.

 _So close, why are the Gods cruel?_ Low growls surrounded them. Sansa gripped Ygritte’s hand tighter, _this is the end, eaten by hounds._ Everything went still, the wind stopped howling, and the snowflakes delicately fell on the ground. _Has the storm ended? Or are we in the eye of the storm?_ A sinister voice emerged.

“Hounds stand ground.” A small man with a square jaw stood in front of them. She trembled when she met his eyes. _The shade of ice, lighter than my own._ However it wasn’t the shade that frighten her it was the way they pierced her soul, the way his smile twisted as he looked upon them. “The pair of red-headed wildling bitches, found.” His smile grew showing his pointy teeth. “Now my King will be greatly satisfied. I was greatly satisfied, you were both a good game.” The man began tisking moving his index finger back and forth at Ygritte. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Put the bow down. You won’t be fast enough before I pierce you in between the eyes. You won’t be fast enough for me to command my dogs to eat you alive. Put it down.” She felt chills but it wasn’t the cold, it was the way he spoke. _No, I won’t be a prisoner again. Not with this man._

A man galloped behind him. “Lord Bolton, our King will be arriving shortly for them. I send word with the other men.”

The Lord didn’t turn to look at the man. “You’re alone then?” He kept his gaze fixated on Ygritte.

“Aye, my lord.”

In a blink of an eye he turned and shot his arrow through the man’s throat. The man gargled and choked on the blood emerging from his mouth. He fell on the ground, the horse awkwardly swaying away from the dead man. “You won’t be coming back to Winterfell you will be coming with me to the Dreadfort. You will answer to your crimes. You see, I’m kinder than the King. I can assure you.” _He lies._ Sansa looked at the flayed man sigil to know otherwise. As the man approached them the hounds kept barking and growling at them. He broke her hand away from Ygritte’s and began bounding her hands, neither gentle nor kind he tighten the ropes. He pushed her forcefully to the ground. He moved towards Sansa, “I’ll let you go. I just need one of you.” _He lies._ “So what do you say? You stay or will you go?” The man began unlacing the next cord from his buckle. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she left Ygritte with this man. She slowly moved her hands forward ready for him to bind them. No, she will stay.

“Go you fool. Leave!”

“It seems like she made up her mind.” He began bounding her hands when Ygritte kicked the man in the ankle. “You stupid whore.” He let out a whistle and his dogs leaped forward foam covering their mouths. She shut her eyes not wanting to see. All she heard were screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo yall have a choice here either  
> A) No, this is not the end for Ygritte. Keep her alive!  
> B) Yes, it's time for Ygritte and Sansa to part ways, sadly.  
> C) Surprise me??? 
> 
> So let me know how to proceed bc which ever option yall want i have!! plus this will also have me make up my mind bc i have many scenarios in my head that i need to sort out.  
> Sorry for the lack of Jon :(( but next chapter will be his POV ;)  
> Also if yall have any questions about this little universe please let me know but as the story progresses i hope to add more dimension. (I'm not a skillfull writer this is just for fun and im glad people are enjoying this fic makes my heart sing)


	4. Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was long overdue, enjoy!

“It’s been two days since the capture of these Wildlings yet they haven’t said anything in respect to their raids, your Grace.” The Lord Commander spoke out in the privacy of his corridor. Only his most trusted advisors, Brienne of Tarth and Ser Davos shared his deepest worries, the only ones to see the constant wrinkles on his brow. _Who can I trust after the death of my Father? How can I fill in the gap of a great man, a great king?_ “I’m beginning to suspect they don’t know anything.”

“They must know something. At least how many men they have. If I can smuggle some men to go beyond the wall, your Grace. I can figure out this information for you without depending on these women.” _How many men have gone beyond the wall never to return? Did they die fighting or did they simply turned their back and decide to join the Free- Folk?_ His mind was filled with questions, too many for his liking. The Northern Crown was too heavy for him to wear alone. _“You need to marry, son. I won’t be with you forever. You need a wife to share your keep, give you future children to continue the Stark line”._ However, he cannot recall ruling ever being easy for his Father either. He never knew how unprepared he felt with the other Lords being twice his age and looking for his guidance. He is a King of Winter and it’s his duty to continue the line. _Winter is Coming._

“No, I doubt anyone will want to venture beyond the wall after all the stories of our missing men. The winds of winter have not been kind to us, I will not risk the life any northerner for a suicide mission. Even the Night’s Watch is having trouble securing every castle on the wall, Lord Commander Mormont has informed me that many brothers have gone missing.”

“As you say your grace. Today, I have received a raven that Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark will be attending the council. They refuse to answer my ravens to calculate the north’s loses for this recent raid.” The old man handed him the opened scroll. The wax of the flayed man still attached to it.

“Whatever problems they bring. I’m sure they can be solved. He hasn’t always been the friendly type neither was his father to mine. I believe some things never change.” He cracked a smile to lighten the mood but it fell on deaf ears. “My lords, it’s been a pleasure. Your guidance is greatly appreciated but it seems that I must tend to other activities of the castle. Brienne please keep me informed of the status of the Wildlings if any news shall arise.” He was hoping to pay a visit just to see her face again but it has been two days and treating them subhuman will make her hate him even more. He was not willing to face her eyes looking at him with disdain. _I have to do what I need to do, I have killed the boy a long time ago, I am a man now._

The day passed more quickly than he expected he went back and forth conversing with the Lords and stewards to tend to the Castle’s needs. He had requested for his dinner to be brought to his chamber too exhausted to talk with any of the Lords. As soon as he sat to eat, there was rustling and noises outside his door. He stood to see what the problem was when Ramsey pushed himself through his door.

“Is there a reason for you to barge into my solar uninvited Lord Ramsey?” his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. He always found a way to get an unpleasant reaction out of him.

“I was simply inquiring where my King was. He wasn’t at the Great Hall to sup with all his dutiful Lords. So I took some liberties to find you and here you are! I need to talk with you prior to tomorrow’s council.” He smirked walking around his desk, his snake eyes roaming around the maps and papers that were laid out.

“You could have asked for a meeting-”

“Aye, I could have.” His attention veered away from the maps to him. “I’m here now so why waste time and get to it. I traveled because my villages near the Dreadfort have been sacked by Wildlings and my King has done little to nothing to help. It is apparent that I’m not the only one, the Karstarks have been taking most of the hits being so near the Wall.”

Ramsey kept his victorious smile on his face as Jon’s solemnly glance at it him. His smiled widened as if he was in a joke that Jon wasn’t aware of.

“I have sent ravens requesting your loses. Ser Davos has informed me that you have not responded to-”

“I rather have some form of human interaction, I like doing it in person.” He made himself comfortable on his chair lazily resting his arms on the rests. Jon’s body become rigid. Ramsey never gave him the respect other Lords did even if they believed he was doing poorly as King. “I’ve heard that you were able to capture two Wildlings. Give them to me, I’ll get the information we need.”

“Why? Are you going to flay them?” Gaining confidence he walked towards Ramsey leaning against the table crossing his arms. His own feet almost colliding with Ramsey’s opened legs.

“I have my methods. My sigil-” Jon leaned forward placing his hands on the arm rest, caging him in on the seat. He was tired of playing games with him, to battle with words that held little meaning to him.

“If I see you near the cells or hear that you’ve been down there. My sigil is not a threat but what Starks are made of. Undermine me again and you’ll live to regret it.” He slowly leaned back against the table. Ramsey stood stiffly, Jon’s eyes followed him out the door.

“As you say, your Grace.” He left closing the door slowly.  Jon’s chest puff slightly letting out the tension flow out his body. The man left too calm and that irked Jon. He walked back to his chamber feeling restless hoping that sleep will come to him easily.

He dreamt about her again. The Wilding Beauty’s hand combing and petting Ghost’s fur while humming to herself. Her hair flowing freely, flakes of snow melting as they touched her skin. She vanished as soon as he tried to approach her leaving him and Ghost confused in the winter snow. Sunlight reached his eyes through the window. He began his day as always when Ser Davos announced himself out of breath.

“Your Grace, the Wildlings they are gone.” Jon’s stomach dropped, hastily placed his cup of mead on his table, he was drinking too early in the morning.

“What?” His thoughts went to Ramsey. _He left so calm._ “Where’s Lord Ramsey?” He began putting his cloak to ride out to find them, find her.

“I don’t know. Lady Brienne found the guard Walder dead on the Mute girl’s cell.” Jon’s head snapped to look at Davos. _Could she be capable of killing?_ He corrected his thoughts reminding himself she was an enemy. “and Richard, that tended the horses. They are dangerous.”

“Aye, nothing we cannot handle.”

He was out the gates calling for Ghost. The loyal direwolf came to him blending too well with the white flurries of snow cascading from the sky, “Find her, Ghost.” He patted his massive back urging him to cross the winter fields. His black horse was missing so he had to settle for his sister’s white mare.

“Commander Tarth, please make sure to investigate how exactly these widlings got out. Why the bloody hell were there not men at the gates!?” He packed Ice at the rear of the white horse.

“As you command your Grace. The men who betrayed you will know your justice. I reassure you.”

He galloped as fast as he could the sun high on the sky. Who knew how far they have gone. With the wind blowing the thick snow into his face. He hoped they had a rough night and weren’t able to travel far up north. He had sent rangers prior to him hoping they can find any signs of them. But the snow did a wonderful job and covering the tracks they left behind. He felt Ghost was near them, his closest companion and even with the distance he could feel his connection with ghost.

He knew they were near the Long Lake. He told his men to keep close as the snow grew thicker. A party of three men came to them saying that they have been found, his heart fluttered strangely in his chest. “Aaron was left behind. He spotted Ramsey with the women, we came as fast as we can to inform you your Grace.”

Everything seemed to freeze the snowflakes were falling much slower than before, only the screams filled the winter air. He pushed his horse forward not minding if his men decided to follow. He didn’t see the words coming out of her mouth but he knew it was her that was screaming in the far distance.

“Stop! No, no, no. Stop it now!” As soon as their figures came into his view, he looked in horror at the scene. There was red everywhere. Red blood and red hair spilled on the white snow.

“You fucken wolf, you little shite.” Ramsey held his bloody right arm close to his chest, droplets of red falling on the undisturbed snow. Ghost, silently circled him, his fangs reddened with blood. Both women laid in the ground, Ygritte painfully squirmed in the snow repeating incoherent sentences. Even through her thick furs he could see how the now dead dogs severely damaged her legs. The Beauty had fainted landing on her side, her red hair covering her pink face.

“How dare you defy my orders!” with a great force his fist collided with Ramsey’s nose with a terrifying crack. The man stumbled falling on top of one of his dead dogs. His hands went directly to his face muffling his cry when he cracked his nose back into place.

“I did what I had to do, if it weren’t for your savage beast I would have had it under control!”

It took all of Jon’s strength not to pounce on the man and beat him bloody. “You will be answering for this defiance. Look at them! How can I get information from them now?”

Ramsey stupidly looked at both the red-heads smiling at his accomplishments, “Unlike you, I don’t have pity for these Wildlings. One less doesn’t make a difference.” He pointed at Ygritte “If she dies or lives it won’t matter to them. They have plenty more that will come down that Wall.” He pointed at the Beauty “If she dies or lives it won’t matter. They don’t matter, they will keep on coming and raiding our villages.”

“Get up, Lord Ramsey. You’re going to be escorted back to Winterfell. Kept in confinement until I find a reasonable punishment.  I won’t have you disrespect me again.” His men arrived looking sick at the scene before them. They whispered among themselves.

“I want you to escort Lord Bolton. Keep him restrained with a rope,” he turned to Ramsey, “you are lucky that you are my banner-man if not I would have kept you in the cells. Make sure the Maester tends his wounds.” He looked at Ygritte who had seemed to be in a cold sweat. “Have her in one of the spare maid bedrooms also have her taken care of. She is the only one that speaks, I don’t want her to die.”

“What about the other one your Grace.” Said the man as he tied up Ramsey.

“I’ll wake her up.” He walked towards her. He squatted and gently moved her wet auburn hair from her face. She was covered in dirt and with traces of dried tears on her pink cheeks. Whispering the name he had given her he told her to open her eyes yet her eyes remained shut. He shook her shoulders lightly and her eyes fluttered open. Panic emerged as soon as her blue met his grey eyes ones. She jumped suddenly looking behind him at Ygritte. Tears filled her eyes once more, she crawled to her friend silently whimpering at Ygritte’s neck. He stood feeling uncomfortable, he felt like an intruder watching an intimate moment. He probably wasn’t the only one, his men had averted their eyes. Completing the task of mounting Ramsey in one of the horses to take him back to Winterfell.

“Go ahead of me. Two of you will be going to take Ramsey. The rest will stay to transport the women.”

He looked back at them. Ygritte had her hand stroking the Beauty’s hair. Her lips faintly whispered as the Beauty nodded slowly. His eyes narrowed and took her by the waist. “Up, that’s enough. You two are still my prisoners.” As soon as she started to struggle he turned her around holding her head still with both his hands, “she won’t die today. She will be taken care of, my men will take her back” her eyes widen, “not to the cells, she will be recovering at the servants corridors.” Her lips lightly parted as if she wanted to say something, yet her eyes did all the talking. He felt a connection with her as if she didn’t need to speak to know what she was thinking or feeling. _Just like Ghost and I._ “You’ll be riding with me. I’ll decide your fate once we reach Winterfell. I don’t think you will want to be alone in your cell with that dead man.” _She’s not innocent, she just killed someone._

Her cheeks reddened, she seemed like a child being scolded for not eating her dinner. He took both her hands and delicately wrapped the rope around her wrists. She kept her gaze down and every so often glancing at Ygritte who was being moved slowly to the back of a hay carriage.

“By the way did you take my horse? A black one?”

She nodded sheepishly, “Do you know where it ran off to?” she slowly shook her head, “My father gifted me that horse.” It was a thought he had yet it came out of his mouth easily. She just stared at him, he gave her a quick nod. Grabbing her by the waist to mount her on the white horse, he followed behind her. Despite the cold he could feel his blood heat up as he wrapped one arm around her holding her closer to his chest. His other hand rested on her thigh holding onto the horse’s reigns.

Her smell became addictive as they rode back home, she smelled citrusy and like Winterfell. His men where father down after being advise to ride faster to tend to the Wildlings wounds, she was very weak and did not want her to die, mainly for the Beauty’s sake.

He was going much slower than usual, he wanted to prolong his time with her. Her bounded hands went to the reigns but he held her tight against him, “Don’t do anything you will regret.” She gave him nervous look pleading eyes when she saw his men disappearing off in the distance. He hated himself for wanting to spend time with her even as she wished the opposite. She had bewitched him yet she did not seem to understand the affect she had on him.

The snow had started picking up again, falling heavily on them. She leaned into him covering her eyes with her hands. Grey dark clouds replaced the white sky, night was creeping on them. He knew these lands yet dark shadows seem to throw him off, the trail of his men were gone. _I can’t be lost in my own lands._ He felt Ghost nearby as soon as he spotted him the direwolf lead them through the dark forest. _The cabin._ “We must stop, the storm is making it difficult to navigate –“she shook her head and took the rains making the horse go faster. He gained control of them once more caging her small hands against his own. “Don’t do that! I know you want to see Ygritte. Do you want to freeze to death? Get lost?” Her shoulders went up for every whimper she tried to suppress. He saw the woods through the heavy snow. _The trees will shield us from the wind._ She began to squirm against him falling heavily on the ground, it took her a second to get up and start running towards the woods. He growl, he couldn’t comprehend why she was so difficult to tame. To make her understand that he doesn’t want to hurt her.

As soon as she was close enough he dismounted the horse and chased after her, in other circumstances he wouldn’t have mind chasing her but she meant to escape from him. He caged her in with his arms holding her firmly as she tried to get rid of his hold. “Stop running away!” He said through gritted teeth against her hair. His blood boiled entirely different, he was angry at her. Angry at himself to ever think that this Wildling will ever accept him, her captor.

He didn’t have time to send a note with his horse, he just hoped his advisors knew he was safe. He smacked the white mare on its rear to gallop away, hoping it will reach Winterfell. Even after walking through the forest she kept resisting, moving once in a while to test his strength. They weren’t far away from his cabin in the woods, which was mostly used for when he hunted with his men and Ghost when his Father was alive. Hunting was no longer an option when he had responsibilities.

Her body weakly collapsed against him. _Was this another of her tricks?_ He brought her up by her legs and placed her bounded hands through his neck. He carried her all the way to the cabin with Ghost following closely behind them.

The cabin was cold and dusty. He entered the bedroom and rested her limping body on the bed. He went back to the solar to get some logs and start a fire by the kitchenette and the room she was sleeping. Ghost had grown restless within the small cabin. He took a parchment and wrote to Ser Davos that he will be outwaiting the storm. He wrapped the note with the rope that bounded the Beauty’s hands around Ghost neck. “Go back to Winterfell, I’ll be fine.” Once he opened the door the snow had already piled up heavily against the door.

He took some wine, dried fruit, and meat from one of the cabinets. He carefully tasted them and seemed to have held quite well. He looked up to see the Beauty by the door way, her eyes were red and suspicious of him. “Come sit,” he signaled at the chair next to his, “You haven’t eaten so take your time so your stomach can settle.” She looked around, taking in her surroundings. She stalled for a while moving the chair away before taking a seat. She began eating the dried fruit eating too lady-like for someone who hasn’t eaten in days. He stood to get the fire to burn brighter. He soaked a cloth on the melted snow. “Here. So you can clean yourself.” He had his hand extended but she refused to take it ignoring him continuing to take small bites. “Not surprised, you Wildlings are a dirty bunch.” She stood up knocking the chair behind her. Her nostrils were flaring and yanked the cloth from his hands.

She began wiping the dirt and blood from her hands then cleaned her face. She must have notice him staring as soon as her eyes met his she stopped from cleaning her neck. He cleared his throat and handed her the bucket. “You can clean yourself in the chamber. You might also want a change of clothes, there’s some in the armory. Feel free to take them.” He went back to pick on the fire the flames growing hotter against his skin.

He drank the remaining of the wine finding it heating his bones more than the fire. She hadn’t come out from the room since she had sent her off. He began drifting off, slowly closing his eyes. His discomfort on the chair kept him from falling asleep. He stood up growing courage and walked to the bedroom. He opened the latch and saw her laying there on the wool sheets and fur. She had shed her Wildling clothes and wore his cotton camisole and breeches. There were too big for her slim body.

He moved her over to her side so he could give into a much needed sleep. He left a gap between them not wanting to startle her and getting the wrong idea of his intentions. She kept shivering so he left her with the furs while he indulged in the warmth of the wine, the roaring fire in the bedroom, and the wool sheets. Even if she was a stranger, she felt familiar to him. He wished he could close the gap to feel her warmth to feel her skin on his fingertips. He knew better. _Don’t fall for her, she’s a Wildling._  

Slumber came easily and it went away as soon as it came. He felt pressure on his chest, his eyes shut open. He had awoken with her straddling him, his brows crinkled when he felt the cold valaryan steel on his throat. The curve of her chest peeking through the low camisole. “What a way to wake up, though I did wish you were not threatening me with that dagger.” Her face was expressionless but her hands betrayed her, the blade shook lightly against his neck. “Are you going to kill me? Or what are you waiting for?” He raised his eyebrows but she kept the same blank expression. “Fine, I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when you’re ready to commit to your actions.” He closed his eyes, if she had killed before what was taking her so long to take his life.

“I…I can’t. I just want to go home.” She finally spoke to him, it was the voice of a grown women yet it sounded fragile. He slowly opened his eyes, the blade was still on his throat but she was no longer looking at him instead the hilt of the dagger. He took the opportunity to grab her hand and throw the dagger across the room; flipping her on her back and pinning her hands with his to her chest.

“That was very stupid of you.” She began to move against his hips, trying to get away from being caged by his thighs. “If you couldn’t kill me, why threaten me with the dagger? It didn’t make me trust you or free you! Why do it then?”

She lowered her gaze yet she kept fighting to be freed from him. _Would we always be struggling with each other?_ It would be so easy to lock her up and treat her like a prisoner but he couldn’t, he was enchanted the moment he laid eyes on her. She was a curse and a blessing wrapped in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! and sticking around :))


	5. Cabin

“Please, Sansa. Save yourself, escape without me. I’ll be fine. I promise.” Ygritte whispered slowly into her ear as she weakly combed Sansa’s tangled hair while she silently wept against Ygritte’s head. Ygritte’s eyes kept slowly closing yet her lips kept whispering words Sansa couldn’t understand. She held her hand tightly unwilling to let go of her when the King picked her up separating them holding her close to his chest.

She gasped waking up in an unfamiliar cold bed. The furs were piled up against her legs while the cotton camisole had slipped from her shoulders revealing her pale skin to the winter air. She pulled a side over one shoulder when she noticed she was not alone. At the edge of the bed the dark haired King slept with one leg slightly slipping off the bed.

The rose gold hilt of her dagger caught her eye as the red rubies shined from the low flames of the hearth. _This is your chance, get the dagger and escape._ The drowsy king didn’t feel her as she reached over his hip pulling out the dagger from its holder. Her chest heavily rose feeling her own heart pounding on her ears. _Slowly, Sansa you can do it. It’s like skinning a rabbit. He won’t know until it’s too late._ She managed the courage to lift a leg and place it over him keeping her eyes glued to his face hoping he wouldn’t wake before she slit his throat. Sansa lowered herself on him to keep him in place just in case his body spasms afterwards. She pressed her eyes shut trying to erase the image she formed in her head. _Don’t be a coward, Ygritte would not hesitate. Do it for her._ Her hands trembled as the dagger reached his neck. However, she quickly removed the dagger from his neck and pressed it against her chest to stop trembling and even out her breath. She exhaled and brought the dagger back to his neck when his dark eyes were on her.

For a man who was about to die, he remained composed with his arms still resting under his head. She felt the whole room enclose on her, feeling the cold air on her neck and shoulder. _It’s his eyes. I cannot do it when he’s looking at me. I can’t._

His brows wrinkled while his blackened eyes pierced her, “What a way to wake up, though I did wish you were not threatening me with that dagger.” She embraced the cold suppressing the goosebumps that had formed on her skin. _It will be easier if you don’t talk to him. He has kept you away from your loved ones. Everything that’s happening to you it’s his fault._

“Are you going to kill me? Or what are you waiting for?” his eyebrows moved up questioning her. _Shut up, just shut up. Why is he making it more difficult than it already is?_

“Fine, I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when you’re ready to commit to your actions.” Just like that he closed his eyes resettled his head against his arms slightly moving his body and her resting on his hips away from the edge of the bed. _Do it now, when he’s not looking. He doesn’t deserve your mercy._

She gripped the hilt tighter ignoring her sweaty palms. Yet she couldn’t make herself end his life. She slowly blinked, “I…” holding back her tears. _Your stupid naïve girl, he won’t hesitate to kill you._ “I can’t.” Her thoughts went back to her father and brother. Lastly, to her mother who is no longer in this world. “I just want to go home.” She felt his body move too quickly as the dagger was ripped from her hands and a tinge of pain on her palm. As soon as she felt her back collide with the mattress she knew she was caged in again. She ignored the words spilling out from his lips. She hated him with all her might. She didn’t care anymore and continued kicking and moving her shoulders to be away from him.

“Stop it, you’re bleeding!” She finally stilled thinking her moon blood had come today feeling the heat on her cheeks. _It’s normal, he should be the one embarrassed for handling me in such a way._ She opened her eyes to see his shirt covered in blood and her hands. Her left palm had a cut a across it where droplets of blood were falling on her chest.

“I am so sorry I did not mean to harm you. I did not know, I apologize.” He freed her slowly moving across the room to retrieve the dagger, “Truly I did not mean to pain you. I’ll bring you something to stop the bleeding.” With that he left the room leaving her disheveled on the bed. She sat on the edge and used the camisole to wipe the blood that made its way to the dip of her neck then used the long sleeve to pressure her palm to stop the bleeding.

He came back to the room looking distraught with a bottle, a basin, and pieces of cloth. “Can I take a look at your hand?” She was unable to meet his eyes but she extended her hand. He sat next to her on the bed bringing a chair to rest the materials he brought in.

“It will heal looks like the dagger just graced your skin. This will sting just a little but it’s too disinfect the cut.” She flinched as the cloth reached her hand. “Sorry, please look at me.” She raised her gaze to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s that everything happened so quickly and I just reacted.” His rough hands carefully kept cleaning her wound. He rested her palm on his thigh as he reached for the bottle. “This helps with the scarring. There was a time where one of my men pierced me with an arrow when we were hunting. I had to be in bed-rest for days because I couldn’t move my shoulder.” He showed her a sympathetic smile but she didn’t care for his story. His smile faded and began pouring the liquid into a new cloth, “Anyway, this helped relieve the pain and swelling.” He brought up her hand to his and began padding it. _He doesn’t have to do this. He could have just given me the materials and let me do it myself. Does he feel guilty?_ He was too careful with her, like she would break at the slightest touch. She hated the way his curls would fall on his face obscuring his eyes. She hated his eyes the most, they were kind for a man so cruel.

He bounded her hand with the remaining of the cloth. “After today, I’ll take a look at your hand again to change the cloth. I’m sorr-” she yanked her hand away from his.

 “Stop saying you’re sorry! A million apologizes would never make me forgive you. I hate you.” He looked away from her perhaps ashamed but she did not care how he felt. He stood leaving the room without saying a word. She moved against the bed bringing her knees and hands to her face. She began to weep like a child cradling herself on the furs. She did not know when sleep took her but when she opened her eyes she could smell something roasting on the fire outside the room. Her stomach grumbled at the smell betraying her. _Don’t, you can withstand another day without food. You don’t need his food._

He appeared by the door. “Looks like we are snowed in. I cooked a rabbit Ghost brought. Just another night and my men would be coming for us. She didn’t moved from the bed even as he gestured her out of the room. “Or would you rather stay here? There’s no fire, the room will start to freeze any minute. Please come out and eat with me.” He stood his ground. “If you don’t come eat with me I will force food down yo-”

She snapped, “Is that all you’re good at? Forcing, restricting, commanding people? I don’t care for your food. Weren’t you just starving me three days ago? Just let me be.”

“I would say that I was sorry but I know you don’t want to hear that. You have ended my patience-”

“Patience!?” she stood towards him, “Ha that’s laughable. You have been the opposite. I can only imagine what you think being patient is. Waiting in a cell is being patient. Not talking is being patient enough. You’re anything but patient.”

His eyes were raging. She silently scolded herself for talking too much but perhaps that’s what she needed to say. She had spent too many days quiet bottling all her emotions.

“You’re a Wildling you have no place in my castle besides a cell. If you do not want to eat then perish for all I care. I wish you were a mute, I cannot stand your voice.” Her mouth gaped at the shock of his words. He meant so little to her yet felt an awful knot in her gut. He left the room leaving the door open. The large Direwolf made its way to her.

 _It’s his fault too, if I didn’t lay my eyes on you I wouldn’t have been captured._ Yet she couldn’t be mad at Ghost as he leaned his head to be petted. She caressed him under his jaw and behind his ear, his face was larger than she could have imagined. Not once had she felt feared looking at his unblinking red stare. He went behind her and began pushing her out the door. “No, Ghost. Stop it right now.” She said silently trying not to be heard by him. As soon as he saw her being pushed out the door by Ghost he cracked a smile but covered it when he brought a piece of cooked meat to his mouth. Once she was out the door Ghost made his way to the table next to the empty seat across the king.

“Ghost clearly wants you to take a seat. I’ll be done soon and you can eat in peace.” He took a bite from his last piece of meat before stuffing the rest in his mouth and cleaning his greasy fingers on a napkin. “You can have the rest of the rabbit and wine.” He made his way to pick up the last firewood from the corner. “I need to pass. I’ll be rekindling the fire.” She moved timidly towards the table and began eating; it wasn’t tasteful but she was hungry and the sweet cherry wine made it better. It wasn’t often that she had the privilege to drink wine. Her father would only let her drink when they had company in their tent or when she and her brother would sneak off with a bottle to join Ygritte and the others to stare at the northern lights and starry night. The wine kept them warm as it is keeping her warm now. She felt her face reddened as soon as she finished her second cup wanting to indulge and wash out the taste of the rabbit.

Ghost began to fidget and nudge at the door to be let out. She stood to remove the barrier and slowly opened the door. Snow was cascading in from the crack while the rest stood above her chest holding up the shape of the door. The Direwolf pounced up and as heavy as he looked he did not disturbed the rest of the snow from towering over her. He disappeared off in the distance. She immediately closed the door to avoid the cold air from putting out the flames.  Sansa was startled as she noticed him leaning against the room’s door.

“That was interesting. I was betting that you would run off with Ghost and I would have to chase you again.” He smirked folding his arms against his chest. She rolled her eyes astonished that not once she thought about escaping and took a seat by the low flames to warm herself up. “I started the fire in the room if you want to go rest, the sun would be setting soon and there’s nothing wrong with an early bedtime. There’s still clothes in the armory if you want to change to something… less bloody.” She did not turn to look at him yet she saw him from the corner of her eye scratching his beard and taking the seat by the table, his legs extending to her chair. She took comfort from the remaining flames that warmed her skin and relaxed her. _I’m stuck with him for now but as soon as his men come I’ll free myself and I’ll free Ygritte._ She couldn’t imagine returning without her, feeling guilt for not being with her at this moment. _Is she still alive?_

She rested her elbows on her knees closing her eyes.

“Do you see the way he looked at you? The way he attacked that guard? He fancies you.” Ygritte chuckled as she leaned against the metal cell poking her face through the bars.

“Stop that. He does not, I’m a Wildling to him and nothing more.”

“He was on top of you, it’s not hard to imagine what he was thinking.” Sansa shot her a glare. “How about you seduce him. I bet he would let us go if you give him a kiss. Men are that easy.”

“I would rather stay in this cell than kiss a kneeler.”

“He isn’t a kneeler, people take the knee to him. He’s the king in these lands.”

The guard stationed at the door, Pod, shyly glanced at her then quickly straightened himself when she noticed. “I don’t care if he’s king, he’s from south of the wall and being king here doesn’t mean he’s a great leader. They are nothing like us.”

“Aye, there are many things you don’t know. They have some free-folk blood in them.” Sansa wasn’t taking her bate she was tired talking about him. “I hope he comes down again so maybe I could seduce him, he’s not bad looking. He looks just how I thought a Southerner would look.”

Sansa smiled at her. “Please do. That would be quite a story to tell when we return home.” They both laughed but it shortly ended, “Do you think we will ever get out of this mess?”

“I promised your father that I’ll take care of you. I will. Look at me Sansa, we will return if it’s the last thing we do.”

“Please don’t say that. It won’t be the last thing we do.” She closed her eyes.

“I was told you couldn’t sleep, open your eyes!” she heard the clang of the sword against the cell.

She awoke and fell from the chair, “What?”

“I did not say anything.” He reached his hand from his chair to help her up. Rejecting it she sat back on her seat. _It was only a memory._ Yet she could still feel the sound of the sword hitting the cell vibrating through her head and Ygritte’s words.

She rubbed her temple to decrease her headache. _Perhaps I should just lay down, I should have not drank the wine._ The room began spinning but he was able to catch her before she stumbled. “I got you.” His arm was around her waist while the other held her shoulder.

“I can walk on my own.” She weakly pushed him off but failed to even move at all. Her hand stayed on his chest feeling the thumping of his heart unexpectedly leaning into his shoulder. She was soon on the bed being covered with the furs, reminding her of when her mother would tuck her in at night.

“I must be the weakest ‘Wildling’ you have ever met,” she turned to look at him seating at the end of the bed. “Not only was I captured once, nor twice, but three times. I have fainted and now I’m light-headed for drinking two cups of wine and all for blue winter roses.” He gave her a smile, warming her face even more. It wrinkled his dark eyes and showed his perfect teeth, thinking it must be due to his royal blood and fancy living.

“No, I don’t think that. When I first laid my eyes on you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.” His hands reached to take her left hand, delicately placing it on top of one while the other traced her finger tips. From his hands to his eyes she looked at him attentively not knowing his intentions. _Why would he say this to me?_   "In Winterfell, we have a glass garden filled with blue roses, you could even make yourself a crown-" After a moment of silence, his face hardened. “I just need to check your hand to see if the bleeding stopped.” She felt a rush of cold air sweep through her veins. She lowered her sight to her hand.

“You don’t need to do that, just leave it.” She turned her back at him and felt his weight off the bed as his footsteps reached the door.

“Very well, I’ll be next door. I don’t want another incident like this morning, maybe I won’t be as lucky the second time around.” The vibrations of the slammed door infuriated her. _I should have done it, I would have been at the Wall by now. I could have reached my family, brought men and women to raid his precious castle. Perhaps, finally steal my blue roses._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!! hope you guys are doing swell and enjoyed this chapter. Let me know your thoughts love reading your comments :))


	6. Furs

The fire had dwindled to ashes, with a few burning specks of red wood. Sleeping in a chair in the cold kitchenette wasn’t the most ideal place to spend the night when there was a beautiful woman and a warm bed next door. His back ached and his legs cramped as they rested on the opposite chair. Jon cursed for letting himself be pushed out of his own bed but it was better to be alive than to have his throat slit open. He had gotten lost in her light blue eyes when he tended to her wound forgetting that if she had the chance she would escape to never be seen again. Yet she had the opportunity to flee when she let Ghost out of the cabin. He had stood there hopeful that she would remain with him and half of himself knew she was smart enough not to take off with wearing just his breeches and camisole.

His mind drifted to her soft fingertips as he traced them feeling the urge to touch more of her. As he approached the bandages he knew that what he felt for her would not end well for him. She was a Wildling and he was a King meant to marry someone of noble birth. Even though he felt carnal desires deep down for her, he not only wanted her body but her soul.

The wolf in him wants to tame and make her his own to form his pack. Have children that look just like her and perhaps a little girl that looks like him. Since last night he lingered on the thought of starting a family with her. He wouldn’t be able to marry her without his lords revolting but if she was willing he would make her his mistress and gift her castles and lands by the Wall so that she can be visited by her family. It would also be close enough for them to visit the Wall and gaze at the winter wonderlands. Jon shook his head in disbelief that he would think about his future life with a woman who he doesn’t even know her name. It has been days since they met, yet the Wilding beauty is as mysterious as the first day.

 _If only we met in different circumstances, I would have properly shown her Ghost._ He recalled her face of wonderment when she got the courage to reach her hand out to pet Ghost only for him to tackle her after she attempted to flee. _If she wasn’t as stubborn he would have already known her name when I first captured her with Ygritte._

His hostility towards her came for her heritage, for being a Wildling. They raided their lands and stole from them. The Northerners had no love for the tribes beyond the Wall, they were invaders who took with force and blood. “She’s a simple Wildling, they are savages.” he combed his hand over his curls to shove his thoughts from wondering further. He turned his head too look over his shoulder when he heard a light cough. She was standing there by the door frame and had a crestfallen expression as if she had heard all his thoughts.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away, “I need to go to… umm”

Jon stood up gaining her attention and locking eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. You are here with me until my men come for us.” She let go of her waist in resignation.

“You made that very clear that I am your prisoner. I meant I need to-” she made an awkward motion with her hands near her stomach, “- I drank wine, you know.”

He slowly caught her meaning, he flushed rubbing his neck. “There’s a clean pot under the bed for that use.”

“You southerners have your waste under your bed?”

“It’s not like the weather allows for you to use the privy at the castle. That’s what it’s used for, how do you people do your necessities?”

She let out a fake chuckle. “You people? Unlike you kneelers, we aren’t savages and don’t lay on top of our own filth. We rather have ours outside our camp, we build a latrine then cover it so it won’t contaminate our food. I should have figured when we got thrown into your cells how uncivilized you are all.” She turned back to the room infuriating Jon for having the last word.

“We aren’t savages!” he huffed that she would say that about them. She made her way towards the table across from where Jon was standing. Her eyes were as dark and infuriated as his.

“That’s what you believe of the Freefolk, when you know nothing about us. Why should I believe any different from your kind. Your hatred towards us is disgusting. We have as much right to live.”

“Right? To raid our lands, take our food, supplies, and animals? You have no right in these lands where I am King. Your King is beyond the Wall and can do little to help you or your people. He’s not a leader but a thief and a murderer!”

A new wave of courage emerged within her to climb over the table and push him hard against his chest. Jon was caught off-guard and landed with a thump on his chair.

“Don’t you dare say anything about our King! He was chosen to lead by our Clan leaders. With merit, skill, bravery, and a kind heart we were able to unite ourselves under his guidance. We call him King because he has gained his peoples trust, and it’s not only a title. He is a true leader unlike yourself who had to be born into his throne. You didn’t have to prove yourself to your _lords_ , you just had to have the right name and your father’s blood.”  

Jon didn’t know why her words stung more than anything. She did not know what he has to endure as King and his responsibilities. He stood from his seat clasping her shoulders and pushing her forward until his knees hit the table. She faced him defiantly, unafraid by his grip nor his flaring nostrils.

“Did I hurt your manhood?” she said with a forced smile.

He squinted his eyes at her, “Why would I be hurt by your words? I’m a King and you’re a simple Wildling. You mean nothing.”

Her smile fell from her face as she struggled to get rid of his grip. “Your reaction speaks for itself, King.” she tried using her feet to stump over his making him lift and sitting her on top of the table and setting himself between her legs.

“You have caused many reactions out of me as soon as we met. Feelings that I shouldn’t have…”his voice was deeper than usual. His breath got caught up as he saw her blue eyes. Her own breath had quicken, they were so close to each other he felt her chest rise up and down against his. He searched her eyes for a response, a sign to let him close the gap between them and end his hunger for her lips.

Her trembling hands landed on his broad shoulders, she broke their eye contact to look up at his lips. He felt the need for her to come to him, for her to need him as much as he needed her. He looked at her attentively as her hands reached the back of his neck. Jon felt her fingertips slightly grace his curls, her right hand left his neck to caress his earlobe and made its way to his cheek, placing her palm on his scruffy beard. She finally met his eyes again, there was a spark in them that he didn’t see before.

“Feelings that you shouldn’t have because I’m a wildling and you’re a king.” she retreated her arms and took her bandaged hand to her chest. “It isn’t proper for us to be this close.” Jon didn’t realize that his hands had roamed down to her waist holding her against him.

He placed his palms on the table next to her hips. “I can’t shake these feelings. You have captured my mind and enslaved my heart. You’re in here-” he grabbed her hand to place it on his temple and moved it to his chest- “and here. I’ve never felt this way before, I don’t know how to say it but I need you.” Her hand slipped away from his and looked away.

“I...” her face quickly hardened. “It seems to me that’s your problem. The feeling isn’t mutual, I only feel anger and disgust towards you.”

He took a step back trying to find a flaw that can make him despise her. _She’s your enemy that’s reason enough. You cannot expect her to fall in love with you._ “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.” He felt like a fool reveling his feelings to a woman who is cold as ice.

“I haven’t forgotten at all. I’m a simple wildling and you’re the King of Winterfell, you made yourself very clear. You are the one who got familiar, is that what you want from me? To become your wildling whore? So that when you had your fill you can dispose of me and continue to have your kneelers’ approval.”

Jon hated himself, she wasn’t wrong about making her his mistress but he would never cast her away like she was a dirty rag. It was no use to explain his small fantasy of giving her a castle and having their children. She will only feel that it was his choice to be together that he only wants to keep her for himself. _Isn’t it true? I do want her for myself._

“It is not my intention for you to think that I would use you in that way. There is no denying the burning desire I have for you. It is evident you don’t feel the same way and I am not a man that forces himself on a woman.”

She huffed.

“It’s true, I want you to be willing. Its only then they I would touch you and show you how much I crave you.”

“Then you will wait till eternity, I want nothing of you. I don’t want your touches, I would rather be a prisoner than to ever come to your bed.” She pushed herself off the table and quickly walked towards the room.

“I think these past days you have slept better than a prisoner. I’m taking the room, you can sleep out here in the cold, you should be used to it Wildling.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

“Very well my King. Have pleasant dreams.” she signaled towards the room and made her way towards the fireplace. She knelt and poked the remaining red speaks of wood to release some heat. She brought her knees together and leaned towards them staring at the ashes.

His heart sank at how cruel he is to her. The only difference between them was their birth, no choice of their own. He made his way to his bed but sleep never came. His eyes looked at the wooden and stone walls to get distracted but his mind never wondered out of this cabin. Jon’s thoughts came back to the woman he could never love.

If she hated him then he should learn how to hate her. To be done with his infatuation, he had declared his interest in her and for a moment he believed that she would want him. Her touch was gentle and kind but it was mostly in her curious eyes. He turned to look at the fireplace, it had dwindled to ashes and with no more wood and both fireplaces out their time was limited before the cold air will sweep through the cabin.

Concern got the best of him. He was wondering how the Wildling Beauty was holding up in the cold stone floor at the other side of his room’s wall. He rose to his feet and quietly made his way to the doorway to take a peek at her.

She was laying on the ground with her arms wrapped around herself and her bended legs. It was apparent that she was cold with slight shivers she would let out. Jon was conflicted at her treatment. She was his prisoner but his feelings for her made him want to treat her kindly. He felt great guilt emerged as he continued to look upon her.

 _What would my father say knowing that I fell for a Wildling? I’m surely a disappointment._ He went back into the room to distance himself from her. Having to be with her in the cabin has brought him a sense of urgency that he did not have when he was in his own chambers in Winterfell. He needed to return so that Sir Davos can put some sense into him.

He was always like a second father to him, and with his dad’s passing he became his trustworthy friend. Jon had a hard time bonding with his Lords or the Lord’s sons, part of them still saw them as Ned’s son and not a King. He wished his father had not sheltered him from reality and his future duties. He carried all the weight of the Northern kingdom. _If only I wasn’t a green-boy when my father got killed. I would have taken my classes with the Maester more seriously._

He was a boy of ten and three when his father died in a Wildling raid and since then he despised them. It wasn’t his fault but part of him wished he would have been there with his father to save him from his death. He was only a boy when he had to be a man, a King, and look after his new-born sister and his Kingdom. The passing of his father had cause the early birth of his sister Arya and the death of his mother Ashara.

Despair and confusion followed. He was an outgoing boy but afterwards he only focused on his lessons and sword fighting. He practiced every day determine to fight and avenge his father’s enemies. Afterwards like his Father, Jon would then attend the Great Hall to listen at the concerns of his Lords and later visit the Godswood to meditate and plead the Gods to listen.

He has grown to be a solemn man with his dark hair and dark grey eyes. During feasts Ladies will gaze and turn for his affection asking him to dance. Many of them were fair of face and body however none of them had awaken his passion unlike the Wildling.

Part of him believes the Gods cursed him for falling for her. _They are playing a twisted and cruel game with me. With so many women around I had to be a fool to lay my eyes on her._ He needed his men to come for them so his misery can end. He turned to his side and wrapped the furs around him, he couldn’t tell how long it has been if daylight had return but one thing was certain that the cabin no longer had any heat.

The northern cold air could be felt under his furs. Every time he took a breath he could see it disappear into the air. He wondered how she was doing, if he should swallow his pride and let her have the furs at least he was in a bed.

He tightly closed his eyes and let out a groan getting up from the bed and dragging the furs with him. Jon did not have enough pride to let someone freeze to death.

She was still in the cold ground but this time her shivers where uncontrollable. He quickly crossed the kitchenette to her and kneeled to wrap her in the warm furs. She willingly cozied up to him wrapping her arms around his waist. Jon took her in moving his hands up and down to warm her up, she kept shivering against him while her teeth continued to chatter.

Through her gritted teeth she spoke the words he’s used to by now “I hate you.” She nuzzled herself under his neck to gain any warmth that had left her body.

“I know you do. I know, I’m sorry.” Jon couldn’t say anything else but hold her close. Her vulnerability got her to need his warmth. Jon felt he didn’t deserve to be near her. He was the cause of all her misfortune, the reason she was freezing in the first place.

“I’m going to pick you up and bring you to the room. I can lay you in the bed and keep you warm if you want. The fire is out but if we keep close I’m sure when my men come they won’t come to frozen bodies. I promise I won’t attempt anything. You can still hate me just don’t die.” His voice faltered at the end but he covered it with a cough.

She looked up at him and nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jon proceeded in picking her up holding her close to him. They got to the room and slowly laid her. She moved aside and lifted the furs and cover so that Jon can make his way in.

He went under them leaving a small gap between each other. She kept facing him which became slightly awkward, he did not know if he should face away or keep an eye on her. But after a while he became accustomed to her form and stayed facing her. Both kept looking at each other with every moment their eyelids would close for a longer time until he decided he trusted her enough to keep his eyes close.

As soon as he felt movement his eyes opened, she had closed the gap having wrapped her arms around him. While her legs slowly invaded his own placing one of her legs between his. Jon was slightly startled but did not want to disturb her sleep in keeping space between them. He kept his arms across his chest he did not want her to get the wrong impression especially after he promised.

Sleep finally took over him as he profoundly slept next to the woman who not so long ago tried to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a slow-burn fic be prepared for all the tension and love/hate from the pair lol. Sorry for the late late update! I hope you enjoyed and leave me your thoughts, ill make sure to reply :)


	7. The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!  
> Just a little synopsis Jon and Sansa are snowed in the Cabin waiting on Jon's men to be rescued. Their resources were limited and have run out of food and wood.  
> I hope you all enjoy this next chapter.

The return of the king from beyond wall was met with fervor and grandeur. The Free-Folk had begun singing and shouting with victory as rumors of their great bounty from the south made its way through the tribe. Everyone was preoccupied preparing for the festivity. There were men skinning elk, women preparing bonfires, elders cleansing their tents for the return of the many men and women who went beyond the wall. They had left little over a moon ago to fight and secure food for the winter. It was a necessity for them when winter almost wipes out most of their people.

Sansa roamed through the crowd to find her Father she was giddy with excitement to see him once more. Many people cheered once they were reunited with their loved ones, clinging to one another. While others left alone, there were a few casualties. Some did not return home. Sansa approached a group of women, “Have you seen the King? I’ve been searching for him.”

The women smiled and hugged Sansa, the elder woman of the bunch took her hands, “Sansa! So great to see you. We are so thrilled to celebrate, we were just talkin’ how we all made the right choice to unite under your father. It’s been so long since we ever had this amount of food and furs. We knew he will deliver-“

A short woman spok with annoyance towards her companion, “I saw your father walking with your brother, I presume his tent.”

“Thank you!” Sansa did not hesitate to make her way to her father’s tent. She passed through various children trying to gain her attention to let her father know that they were ready to face The Wall and kill kneelers. “You are all far too young, make sure you help out here first before trying to go anywhere else. You can all protect your family’s tent.”

As soon as she was announce she did not hesitate to hug him. He stammered with his balance but got a hold of her. “My dear Sansa, one of these days you will break your father’s back.”

“Sorry, I’m so happy to see you. I was so worried about your return. I kept having these bad feelings like mother use to have… never mind that I’m so glad your home. Now Robb can stop trying to boss me around.” she glared at her older brother who was lounging on his father’s chair.

“You’re welcome for my protection sister, if not Father, plenty of men would have stolen her by now.”

“Stop that, no one was going to steal me Father, don’t worry.”

“I worry like any father should. I want a good strong man worthy of you Sansa. I hope anyone with a brain will decide to come to me first than decide to steal you away from me.”

Sansa left her father’s embrace, “I’m not a child.” Her father gave her a small smile. “Of course you aren’t. Sansa and Robb, what I did beyond the wall will not be forgiven easily. I… We’ve killed men.  You should be prepared for any retaliation from those crows and kneelers. I’m not going to live forever and any father’s last days we don’t want any harm done to our children.”

Robb stood to be next to his Father “No harm will befall us, I promise you Father.”

\--

Sansa felt an extreme sharp pain in her injured hand, memories of the past days flashed before her eyes. Ygritte, the King, that lord, and the beastly dogs created an extreme panic in her. She suddenly woke up and looked around the cold dark room and started crying. It wasn’t long until she heard his voice across the room.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say to make you feel better.”

“Don’t say anything at all!” she couldn’t help but cry, she felt that’s the only thing she could do. She was cold, hungry and tired with a man that has kept her as a prisoner. Snowed in a cabin not knowing if his stupid men would be able to rescue them before they freeze to death.

She rested on the bed trying to hush her whimpers, it wouldn’t be of any use to feel sorry for herself. She just had to find a way out.

It wasn’t long after that scrapes and footsteps were heard outside of the cabin door. _Could that be them?_ Part of her was relieved that she will end this torment but knew she would only be a prisoner in that castle again.

The King approached the door as she followed closely behind.

“Those are my men. The snow storm must have ended.” He went back to the room and brought their furs with them. He hastily put his on while she gently put on her dirty furs. Which still had the smell of the cells of Winterfell.

The door began to be pounded on. “That’s strange, why would they not ask me to open the door?” Jon slowly open the door when a tall man pushed him aside and with a loud bang knocked out the King cold on the ground.

“Sansa! We meet again, I remember you smelling better.” the tall redhead man stepped over him as he approached her. As soon as Sansa recognized him she jumped with joy.

“Tormund!” she was so relieved to see friendly faces enter the cabin. Then rage filled her, “How dare you leave Ygritte and I?” she began smacking him but no damage was taken as he held her hands.

“Your Father would have killed us, we never left we hid before the storm hit. Where’s she at?”

“Obviously she’s not here, she was taken back to the castle. We have to go get her.”

“No can do, Sansa. We have to leave now. We sent a couple of messengers they might have reached your Father already.” He began pulling her towards the door. Sansa began to resist. “Not until we get Ygritte. I’m not leaving her behind!”

“Look we can do this the easy way, you come with me home without resisting or the hard way… I can take you with me in his condition.” As he pointed at her captor. “And that’s going to leave a mark your Father won’t be too happy with.”

“That’s it!” she began taking a hold of the King’s hands. “Help me and grab his legs, we are taking him with us.”

“We won’t be taking no random kneeler with us.” Sansa stopped to look at him.

“He is not just any _random kneeler_ he’s the King of the kneelers. So we will be taking him with us to ransom him off for Ygritte.”

“No, no, no, no. We will have a trail of them comin’ to kill us if we take him.”

Sansa started dragging him towards the door, “Fine, then I would do it myself if I have to.”

Tormund let a grunt of resignation and picked him up and placed him on his back. “This is a bad idea but I rather have a good fight than nothin’. Let’s go.”

The northern air was fierce, it howled through the trees and lifted settled snow. Sansa felt the wind was a gift from the Old Gods and hoped that it covered their tracks towards The Wall.

After a few rest stops their group had reached the wall at sunset. Darkness made it difficult to climb The Wall and with such a small group it was better to wait for sunrise if they rather prefer plummeting to their death for missing a step.

Sansa kept her eyes on the man the whole day waiting for his brisk awaken. They had kept his hands bounded and eyes covered to keep him clueless of their venture north. Orell was keeping a lookout with his eagle if anyone followed them.

As they made camp, Sansa sat across from the passed out man. Looking at him bounded did not make her feel any better, she just hoped that Ygritte was still alive so the exchange could happen. She slowly approached him trying to see if he was still breathing. She removed the rag from his head and he opened his eyes. She got startled and gasp, she felt like a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do.

He smirked, “looks like the roles have been reversed, huh Beauty.”

Tormund turned at the sound of his voice, “look who’s awake. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Sansa glared at Tormund, “That’s enough. We don’t want to harm you. I just want Ygritte and you will be returned.”

“You are using me?”

Sansa scuffed at his remark, “Don’t act so proper when you wanted us to give you information on our people. You aren’t any better, I just have the upper hand now.”

“It seems like you do.” he stared at her vividly making her uncomfortable but she cared little for his attention that she stared back with disgust.

The group didn’t light a fire for the night so they all huddled in a circle making sure she was far away from the southerner’s warmth. Even he had the right not to freeze to death.

The sun began peaking from The Wall and everyone was preparing for the climb.

“Look here kneeler, you will be my partner for this climb and I don’t want any sudden movements from you if you want to get knocked out again and this time to your death.” Tormund wrapped the climbing rope around him and Jon. He then handed it to the Orell who will be climbing after him.

Sansa climbed with Vara and Synther. The climb wasn’t the easiest every step could mean their death. If anyone slipped they could drag each other down and all lose their lives. As they climbed her heart was hanging by a thin line, her thoughts were all over the place from her own safety, to Ygritte’s recovery, for her reunion with her family, and in the back of her head for the wellbeing of the King Stark. No one deserved to face their death while climbing.

As soon as she reached the top she gazed at the vast landscape beyond the wall, her home. Happy tears rolled out of her eyes, she never thought she will be standing at the edge of the wall gazing at such magic. She turned to look at the Stark man his eyes were transfixed with awe and wonder.

“It’s beautiful. The climb is truly worth it.” he glanced at her and smiled but it soon vanished when his eyes overlooked her to his land. “I can’t even see Winterfell from here.”

Vara retied the rope and handed it to her, “We made the climb it’s time to descend. Don’t count your blessings just yet princess.”

Sansa coughed awkwardly and roped herself feeling his intense stare with every movement.

“Move cautiously, you don’t want to slip, your highness.” Tormund kept mocking him every chance he got Sansa could notice his irritation but kept climbing down.

“You are a natural maybe you were born in the wrong side of the wall.” Tormund patted Jon’s back to congratulate him, chuckling as he bounded his hands once more.

Orell chimed in, “Seems like he climbed this wall several times. Pity he isn’t one of us. I’ll be sending an eagle so that a group can meet us half way.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sansa began the long march to their camp. It was a day’s walk but nothing seemed to be far away for her at this point she yearned to be home. They soon decided to stop amd wait for the other folks. The bonfire gave them warmth while Vara cleaned the game that Synther was able to catch. Orell’s eagle spotted a group of 5 making their way towards them soon she would be at the comfort of her tent were she can enjoy a clean bath.

“Here this is for you.” Sansa handed him a piece of smoked meat.

“Can you unbound my hands, it would be very difficult to eat you see.” he showed her his hands in resignation.

“Fine, but your legs would be bounded. It’s just a precaution.”

“A smart decision. You shouldn’t worry I won’t run away, I know my limits.” He kept his uncomfortable gaze at her once she knotted the rope around his feet. Touching him made her nervous she trembled as she released the bondage from his hands. His constant glances didn’t help release the tension she had since the cabin. Part of her wished that Tormund had insisted in leaving him behind.

As the other group approached them it didn’t take long for her to realize that a familiar face was among them. She ran towards him and with open arms he took her in as soon as she clashed on his chest.

“Oh Robb!” She held him tight laughing and crying that she would ever be this happy to see her overbearing older brother.  
“I had to know that you were safe. Father would be so relieved.”

Tormund approached them shaking Robb’s hand. “We hoped our messenger got to you. We would have never left your sister as a prisoner. We brought her captor with us, we meant to trade him for Ygritte.”

Robb surveyed the other group, “Where is she?”

Sansa did not have it in her to say yet she spoke. “She got hurt when we tried to escape. We got separated, she went back to the castle while I was stranded with him.”

“I’ll strangle him” Robb made his way but Sansa got in between.

“Please Robb don’t!” Robb looked at her in disbelief. “He hurt you Sansa, look at you. I can barely recognized your proper self.”

“It was never my intention to hurt your…” Jon spoke as he stood from the ground. “your wife?”

“She’s my sister, Kneeler.”

Jon let out a small smile, “Like I said your sister, sorry didn’t quite get her name, was it Sansa?”

“Get on with your talk before I decide to leave you for the wolves out here.” Robb’s patience was dwindling as Sansa kept him from launching at him.

“I’m Jon Stark, I’m the Northern King after my Father’s passing. It was never my intention to imprison your sister Sansa. You Wildlings left me no choice but to be hostile. Raid after raid there is so much a king can take before his people think you weak.” He glanced at Sansa. “I apologized for your treatment, you have treated me far better than I have you.”

Sansa did not know what to say, she did not know what game he was trying to play with them. His treatment wasn’t any better than hers. Tormund and Orell had yanked on his rope any chance they got to push him to the limit so they can get a reaction from him.

“If it’s a ransom you want for my life I would grant you grain, meat, tools. No weapons. I am a reasonable man I’m willing to accept your conditions.”

“It isn’t my conditions you will be accepting but our Father’s, the King-beyond-the-Wall as you Southerners call him.”

Jon’s face grew stern and cold, his hands gripped the rope tighter. “Let’s get on with it and meet this Father of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any questions please feel free to comment. Next chapter we will see Jon getting to meet what you could say his nemesis.
> 
> I was reading Jon/Sansa fanfic and got sad one one of my favorite stories still hasnt updated so i owe you all to update this sorry for the delay.


	8. Father

Jon had to admit that the snow from beyond the Wall was very difficult to walk in. Every step he took his foot would sink deep within and would take some strength and time to make the second step. The hood over his head greatly blurred his vision that after a while he gave up and decided to just close his eyes, following blindly as they pulled him from a tight rope. He didn’t have much of a choice but to obey, he was outnumbered and didn’t have his sword. If not surely he could take them head on, of course, it would be a challenge but he was skilled enough to defeat them. All his life he trained, he had a great Master of Arms and his Father to thank. If he wasn’t with the Maester learning his lessons of past Northern Kings he was at the courtyard blocking and attacking his opponents. Besides it wouldn’t do any good in fighting if he hoped to reach the camp and infiltrate information to his advantage.

As they walked further into the vast field of snow, Jon missed a step and fell to his knees. He struggled to get up since his hands were closely bound to his chest, he had no leverage to rise. He felt the hands of someone struggling with his weight to lift him off his knees. He thanked the person and heard her sweet voice in return.

He heard the rough voice of the red-headed man, “Is this not your speed? And you call yourselves Northerners. Try to keep up, we will be making camp soon.”

Jon grunted hoping this rag would be taken off soon, it was hard to breathe when it was not the best smell going up his nose. His inner thigh muscles ached from all the climbing he did. It felt like an eternity to reach the top of the Wall. He had closely observed how the red-headed man climbed ahead and tried his best to mimic his movements, it was his first climb and he hoped to be the last. He would have rather taken the lift at Castle Black like he had done in the past when he visited with his Father. The first time he gazed over the Wall, his Father had lectured him about the Wildlings. He was mesmerized in the land beyond in how endless it looked yet he hadn’t appreciated its deadly beauty.

They had reached the top when the red-headed man offered him his hand to bring him over the edge as he did the same for the other Wildling. He smiled at the thought of a Wildling helping a King helping a Wildling. _We all had the same goal and that was to climb and live._ He stretched and massaged his hands, his gloves fail to keep them warm. He had given him a wicked smile, “You did well Kneeler. I’m surprised you didn’t start crying once we were leagues away off the ground.”

He wanted to smile back, the man was very charismatic, but refrained from acknowledging his jest. “Jon. You can call me Jon.” The man raised his brows and nodded, “Jon, eh. Not King Jon?” He gave him an irritated look. “Very well you can call me Tormund. Over there is Orell. The other three climbers are--” Jon was ecstatic to finally know her name his face must have showed it because Tormund glanced over at Orell in confusion. Tormund stopped mid-sentence when the second group was near the top. Jon could hear the grunts of the other Wildling woman. “Give me your hand Vara” She took Tormund’s hand and offered hers to the Wildling Beauty who then with the help of Vara brought the last Wildling over the Wall.

They unwrapped their climbing ropes, the two marched towards Orell with Tormund but the Beauty stayed behind and fell to her knees breathing heavily. Her red hair stuck to her face with sweat, she wiped her forehead and got up. Her eyes over-looked his and stared at the landscape before her, her eyes glittered and her smile grew. She looked happy. It was the first smile he had seen on her since he first met her. She looked even more beautiful with a touch of innocence. He made his way next to her and looked beyond the Wall. The sun had peaked from the horizon, unknown colors to him painted the sky but clouds of gray graced the sun blocking out the most vibrant colors.

“It’s beautiful. The climb is truly worth it.” He appreciated the scenery after the climb it was a lot of effort but it also took teamwork. He realized that when he almost missed a step as his hook didn’t quite pierced the ice. If he would have fallen he would have dragged Tormund and Orell down with him. Maybe even the second group if they were below them. He gathered the courage to meet her eyes she was looking right at him. _She’s beautiful._ Her cheeks were rosier and her eyes were clear blue. He noticed the tear streams that grazed her face. He gave her a soft smile and soon remembered the reason for even climbing in the first place. Behind her laid his land, the people he swore to defend. “I can’t even see Winterfell from here.” He could see the forest leading up to the rivers but Winterfell was far beyond that.

His trail of thought was caught off by Vara when she had called her princess, he wondered if it was meant as an endearment but she only looked nervous and walked away from him. It made him realized he knew nothing about her, she had bewitched him with her look but her mysterious life garnered more interest than before. _I’m a fool to have fallen for her knowing nothing._

Tormund had given him the rope again to descend. At this point he was over everything. He was cold and tired. He thought back at how the Wildling Beauty must feel, who he underfed and kept from getting rest in her cell. _I’m a fool indeed, I should have listened to Brienne and treated them more kindly._ He worried for his own treatment but it would be no use if he died as he descended.

He was relieved as his feet touched solid ground. He was congratulated by Tormund and Orell for his climb. Part of him did not care for it but it made him proud to have made it this far without dying. He soon found out that another party of Wildlings would be meeting them before they reach the camp. Jon had very little planned but he hoped for the best.

The screech of Orell’s eagle brought him back to the present. His hood was taken off briskly and he had to blink several times in order for his eyes to adjust. The Wildling’s eagle had spotted 5 other’s close by so they decided to wait on them. He isolated himself and he must have looked like a grump because Tormund kept teasing him for having a “sour face”. The Wildling Beauty approached him and lightly handed him a piece of meat, he convinced her to unbind his hands to eat. She hesitated but not before she bounded his feet. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she delicately removed the rope; he felt her tremble from the cold. Her hands had turned a light shade of red with the harshness of the winter air. It seemed to be winter beyond the Wall while at Winterfell autumn was about to end.

She left him to eat alone and devoured the meat in a few bites. He even licked the fat from his fingers and quickly gloved his hands back.

He wiggled his way close to the fire, only Vara noticed his struggle and gave him a threatening look. He smiled sheepishly and signaled that his feet were bounded she gave him an eye roll and continued to warm herself up.

It wasn’t long when they saw the other group approaching them. He only got startled when the Beauty had screamed out a name and ran towards a strange man. He was covered in gray furs, you could only see his vivid blue eyes. He removed his protective face gear to talk to her, he looked concerned and kept moving his hands to caress her face and even got the chance to warm up her hands.

Jon could only stare at the encounter before him. He was left behind as the other Wildlings joined him. He felt like the most unwanted and miserable man. He grew hot but it wasn’t because of the fire. His blood boiled as the Beauty lingered and grasped the man’s arm. He must have noticed Jon’s glare. Jon could see anger in his eyes as he marched towards him.

He soon realized he wouldn’t be able to properly fight with his feet bounded he can hardly get away if this man decided to attack. He quickly untwisted the knots of the rope but as he was going to rise up and put up a fight the Wildling Beauty stood between them.

“Please Robb, don’t!” She held him back with her hands. Robb had given her a confused look and stepped back. Jon was relieved that he did not have to take this man down. He wouldn’t want to embarrass him in front of his lover or wife or whatever she was to him.

“He hurt you, Sansa…” as soon as he heard the man say her name the world stood still. He had waited to hear her name from her lips but it didn’t matter now. He knew what her name was and for him that was a step closer to getting to know her. Her name was as silky and beautiful as her. He said her name over and over in his head fearing he could forget it. He stopped his mind from wondering further and tried to recall the last words that came from this man. _I did hurt her, how would she ever forgive me._ He tried to form a sentence anything to redeem himself but all he could thing about is how did Sansa know Robb. 

“It was never my intention to hurt your…” His words got caught midair hoping that either Sansa or Robb would finish it for him. He did not want to imply that he had any interest in her or him. Yet they just stood there watching him carefully. He stood getting rid of the rope that got tangled on his feet, “Your wife?” He said nonchalantly.

“She’s my sister, Kneeler.” his voice was irritated. He knew that this man just wanted to take a swing at him for hurting his sister and he could not blame him. Maybe he should get that beating. He smiled at the thought of letting himself get beaten for Sansa. _I deserve it._ Most importantly now he knew that this man wasn’t really a threat to him.

“Like I said your sister, sorry didn’t quite get her name, was it Sansa?” He took a moment to try to capture her eyes but she kept avoiding his stare. He saw the man take a step closer to him and bringing his gloved hand to point at him.

“Get on with your talk before I decide to leave you for the wolves out here.” _I am a wolf._ Sansa pushed her brother a step back, Jon couldn’t help but wonder why she kept him at bay. _Was it for my or his protection?_

“I’m Jon Stark. I’m the Northern King after my Father’s passing. It was never my intention to imprison your sister Sansa. You Wildlings left me no choice but to be hostile. Raid after raid there is so much a king can take before his people think you weak.” It was the truth, his lords would show up at council meetings demanding a war against the Wildlings to march against them but he knew that the Wildlings knew more about their land that they did about theirs. Even their fighting was different it was a lost cause. He knew he had to find out more if he wanted to defeat them. He gave Sansa a sincere look, “I apologized for your treatment, you have treated me far better than I have you.” He knew that she couldn’t possible believe him, after all, they are enemies. Yet he wants her all the same.

He hated himself for even thinking about wanting her. They had invaded their land, stolen food, weapons, and killed his Father. The Gods are cruel for making him fall over some Wildling that despises him. _I’m a fool indeed._

 “If it’s a ransom you want. I can grant you grain, meat, tools.” They are human after all. He couldn’t offer him anything more than that. He could be benevolent. “No weapons. I am a reasonable man I’m willing to accept your conditions.” He had to make it clear that he did not want to arm them. It is very evident that food is scarce and in winter no plant could ever grow. They must accept his offer.

“It isn’t my conditions you will be accepting but our Father’s, the King-beyond-the-Wall as you Southerners call him.”  Jon felt a shiver pass though his body not from the cold but from the memories resurfacing from his past. For him that day feels like yesterday, he can never forget when he heard the news of his Father’s death. _I should have been there. I should have ended that man’s life when he took my Father away from me. Instead he’s living while Ned Stark is dead._ He couldn’t believe his ears, _he said ‘our Father’_. These siblings were the offspring of the man he hates more than anything, the reason for his distrust and disgust for Wildlings. More than anything he hated himself because the Wildling Beauty wasn’t just any woman. She was the daughter of the man that killed his Father.

He needed to release the tension building up inside of him, he gripped the rope he was holding and slowly twisted it. He had to kill this man, to avenge his Father and put an end to his tortured past. “Let’s get on with it and meet this King of yours.” 

His restrain was adjusted by Robb, he felt the ropes tighter than how the rest of the Wildlings bounded him. “Not to your comfort, King Jon?”

“This is as comfortable as I will ever be in these lands.” He was surrounded by strangers in a place he has never even step foot on. _I guess this is how she felt._ He brushed off the thought there’s no time to feel sorry for her or himself. The rag returned on his head and carefully followed as he was pulled in every direction. He lost count in how many turns they made. He kept trying to listen to their conversations but they often whispered and the hood only made him hear mutters.

It had gotten colder which meant that the sun was no longer present, he hoped that they either arrived at the camp or take shelter soon. Animal sounds weren’t far behind them and becoming animal food was not ideal when he’s can’t see nor fight.

The hood was removed and a different darkness surrounded him. The sky was covered in brilliant stars illuminating the night sky. Tormund gave him a strong pat in the back knocking his shoulder forward. Jon questioned if the Wildling knew of his strength and felt like showing off or just simply did not know. “We are close to our camp.” he pointed straight ahead. Jon noticed sparkling fire lights at the distance with a few shadows he could only assume are tents.

Among the ten Wildlings, Tormund seemed not to care who he was he japed and told him stories of his past conquest of women. Jon had to hold in his laughter when Tormund spoke, he was miserable but every time he laughed Sansa would turn around to look at him. He gotten better at ignoring her, she had offered him to untighten the ropes just a little but he only scuffed and kept on walking.

There were no Wildlings insight once they reached the camp. Yet there was warmth coming out of each tent and the signs of the living crept at every corner. There were furs flapping in the wind, game hanging from sticks, and ashes of fires. The night had brought them to rest. His eyes widen when he saw a giant get up from his slumber. He has never seen anything like it before, Old Nan talked about giants but those were just stories. Tormund clutched his shoulders, “They’re big brutes. No need to worry unless you get them angry then there’s no escaping. They will stump you to the ground a beat you to a bloody pulp. There would be no way of recognizing that pretty face of yours afterwards.” Jon kept glancing back at it hoping to never see it mad.

Robb dismissed the rest of the Wildlings that had accompanied them. He kept him moving forward to one of the biggest tents from the camp. It was made out of white pelts of snow bears and at the top of it laid the antlers of a giant elk. Smoke rising from the top. He knew that he was in there. There were brought to a stop and Robb went in first ordering the rest to stay put. He hadn’t noticed that Sansa was no longer among them she must have been part of the first group to have left. Only Tormund and Synther were outside with him.

Robb came back outside, “You may come in.” Jon took a deep breath and entered through the thick flap that covered the entrance. There he was standing, much taller than him with brown straight hair that was mostly gray. He had a brown cloak with touches of red fabric and shaggy furs. Most importantly he noticed his eyes, he had been crying. They were red and puffy yet the man did not look any less intimidating.

“So you are the man that has kept my daughter this past moon.” His voice quivered at the mention of his daughter. _Has it been that long?_ Jon has lost track of the days that he had taken her and her friend Ygritte as a prisoner.

Jon did not know what to say. It wasn’t a question, he knew that Jon is exactly that man. There they stood eyeing each other. He spoke again, “You’re Ned Stark’s son?” Jon looked at him in disbelief. He had the audacity to mention his father’s name. “You can leave us.” He looked at his son and the rest that had entered his tent.

“I won’t leave you alone with him.” Robb defiantly stood next to his Father.

“You must. You can stand outside the cold if you’d like. I can defend myself, Son. Look at him he has his hands bounded.” Robb did a double take to his hands. He made his way towards the exit but not before he pushed him with his shoulder. The rest followed behind. Tormund gave him a nod, “Don’t panic, boy.”

Jon turned back around to look at the King-beyond-the-wall. He gestured him to sit down which he did. “How was the climb?” Jon did not care for his formalities he wanted him dead and he would find a way even if his hands are tied together.

“I see you are not the talking kind.” He served himself a hot drink. “Spiced cider. It’s good for a cold night like this.” He took a sip and wiped his lips. “My son told me the situation that you find yourself. I have yet to seen my daughter so I would want to make this quick.” If looks can kill he hoped his did.

“What do you want from me? I was told that you would like to set the conditions for my return home. I am merely a prisoner, I cannot ask for much except for my release and to send a raven so that my people know I’m safe.”

The older man took another sip. His breath mingled among the heat of the drink. “What I want?” He gazed at the distance hoping to find an answer in the air. “I want for my people to be safe... let us cross the Wall this winter.”

Jon leaned forward and laughed. It was a laugh that he never heard himself do before. He suppose it was the anger he bottled up. “To let you cross? Do you believe me dolt? I promised your son that I would grant you food and supplies but this is asking for too much.”

The man placed his cup of cider down. “Is your life worth that little?”

“If I let you pass it is only a matter of nights for you Wildlings to take over the north and kill us all. If I let you pass my Lords would most likely kill me instead. I have a lot to lose and you more to gain.”

He nodded as he understood. “This winter many will die. Our folks cannot survive this winter. Many had already died and this is only the beginning. We are fighting a war—“

Jon interrupted, “I don’t care if you Wildlings die. It is actually better.”

The man looked disappointed and picked up his cup and looked inside as if the answer to all his problems were at the bottom. “I’ve met your Father. He—“

“You killed my Father!” Jon stood but the man did not flinch he remained seated looking at his cup. This only made Jon angrier, he started pacing the tent to let out the steam.

“Killed? Yes, I have killed many men down south but Ned Stark is not a life I have taken.”

Jon kept walking holding back the tears that would render him weak in front of this man. _You saw his eyes, he cries too._

“Please, let me explain. Sit down.” Jon obeyed and sat yet he kept his leg bouncing to distract him from his emotions. “I faced your Father in a battle when we raided his land. We were close in winning when your Father asked for a parley and I agreed.” This story sounded so foreign to him Roose Bolton never said anything about a parley at his death bed, he only cursed the King-beyond-the-wall, Mance Rayder.

“He let me take the bounty in the condition that I would send a raven and negotiate the amount next time. He wanted peace and I agreed. Winter was upon us and the last thing I wanted was for my people to starve.” He paused to look away from his cup and into his eyes. “He said winter was coming and war only brings more death. I asked him that very same question that I asked you. To let us cross. He agreed.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. He was lying his Father would never let them cross it is a danger to their people he would never say yes. “No… You’re lying.”

He continued as if Jon never spoke. “That day he let us cross the Wall not through Castle Black to keep our discussion private but through one of the abandon stations. It was only us, my men, a few Knights of his, and a Lord as his witness. He had the palest eyes, strange like two white moons. He had a flayed man as his sigil.”

This was nonsense, Jon couldn’t comprehend how this man continued to lie. He was only trying to convince him to let the Wildlings cross under the pretense of his father agreeing in the past.

“I crossed. That was the end of it. But when I sent my raven to inform your father of my return. It wasn’t his response but a letter from the Son of Lord Bolton. He asked for my head and if that if I ever send any wildings he would let his hounds hunt us down. I never heard of your father again.”

“This cannot be true. My father died that night. He was killed by you.”

“Who told you?”

Jon remembers how he rode fiercely to the Dreadfort hoping to find his Father alive. That the letter was false and that his Father did not perish. Instead he found Roose Bolton in his death bed next to his son Ramsay.  He had reached for his hand and said Mance Rayder killed his father.

“I tried to stop him. But he pierced your father with a dagger when he was distracted. I was able to get away but not before Mance took me down. Now death is near.” his voice has always been soft and low but in his condition his voice was barely a whisper. His skin had turned milky white when he passed away. Ramsey did not shed a single tear but told his servants to start the preparations for his vigil.

“It doesn’t matter. My Father is dead and your name was that one that came out.”

“I am truly sorry. Your Father was a great man I can tell from our interaction. We both wanted peace.”

“You’re deceiving me. I heard you long enough. I will not let you cross.”

“Are you willing to have the blood of my people in your hands?”

Jon was prepared to say yes but his thoughts lingered to the only Wildling he had ever felt anything for, Sansa. His heart felt a numbing pain at the thought of her dying because of him. _Could I live with myself?_ He tried to encourage himself that he doesn’t truly know or care for her. He could get by never seeing her again. Yet he failed, his body and soul changed the day he met her. He couldn’t live knowing she was out here starving or that she would perish at the Wall if she fell trying to raid.

“This is not a promise. I’ll have to convince my lords to accept this deal. You’re a King and I am King. You have a daughter and I am looking for a wife.”

The King-beyond-the-wall placed his head on his hands and he rubbed his eyes back and forth. It wasn’t an easy decision for Jon to let them cross so he took pleasure for making it a difficult decision for him. _It was very simple to ask but would he do it at the expense of his daughter._ The man spoke through his hands, “Sansa, she is sweet and kind. She is also stubborn but duty is engraved in her.” The man finally looked up at Jon. “You convince your Lords and I will inform my daughter of her duty.”

He stood and offered Jon a hand to get up. The man began untying the ropes releasing Jon from his captivity. He offered his hand again and Jon shook it. It was a deal. Mance would be able to cross with his Wildlings and he would have Sansa as a bride. Jon couldn’t help wanting to smile but he did not want to spoil anything.

“You will receive a tent and get to write your letter to your Lords of your safety. Until your return south you will be under my protection and no harm would come to you.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

Mance smiled for the first time. “None of that. Us Free-folk never kneel for anyone. Clans have united under me but we are all free.”

Jon opened the tent only to find Robb Rayder standing with his hands folded across his chest. When he noticed Jon’s hands free he charged at him but was stopped by his Father. “Robb show him a tent and ask someone to prepare it for him.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“This is an order. Do what you are asked.” Mance gave him son a stern look.

Robb turned to look at him and began walking. Jon opted to follow him.

“I don’t know what you told my Father just know that I have my eyes on you. Not even for a moment would I ever trust you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He was led to an empty tent, it did have a place to sleep, a table, and chair. He would have to start a fire soon to warm it up.

“I’ll send someone to fetch you some clean furs.”

He began gathering the wood and placed it at the fire pit. A woman entered his tent with spiced cider and a basin for his wash. A man then entered with dark gray furs for him and left quickly. The honey-colored hair woman stayed behind fixing his bed.

“I can do that. It’s fine.”

She kept fixing the furs ignoring him. _Ignoring me is the new normal._ She even started his fire.

“Thank you.”

Her pale grey-blue eyes looked at him fiercely, “I’m Val. There is no need to thank.” She kept looking at him so he didn’t know what she expected. “I’m Jon.”

“Just Jon? Aren’t you a King?” she moved around the table.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I guess it doesn’t. We are all free here.” She smiled politely and left his tent. Jon was finally alone and can finally get the rest he needs. He used the wash cloth to clean his body it wasn’t better than a tub but it was better than being dirty. He put on the clean linen undergarment the man had brought. The tent had finally warmed up, Jon went under the furs and finally closed his eyes hoping that tomorrow he was on his way back to his home.

His sleep was disturbed when Sansa smacked him across the face. He woke up in an instant not knowing where he was. She landed another blow on the other side. He was finally awake when he got her arms twisting her around so that her back was against his chest. Like always she was resisting trying to break free. She was clearly angry at him and kept yelling out curses.

“I’ll let you go if you can stop hitting me.” She reluctantly said yes and lifted himself against the bed so that she can get up on her feet. Her red-hair was loose and it shinned like copper. Her smell of lemongrass consumed him, she was finally clean and looked more radiant than ever.

“You’re scum.” She said through gritted teeth. Finally making herself comfortable against the table.

He combed his curls back trying to understand why she would come in the middle of the night to call him scum.

“What?”

“Oh please! Don’t act like you don’t know anything. I talked to my Father and he told me what you demanded.” her nose kept flaring.

He grunted and massaged his temple. He hoped that Mance did not say anything until he reached the Wall so that he won’t have to face her. No until he can properly announce their betrothed to the Lords. I guess he deserved her fury.  

“I did not demand anything it was an arrangement. Your Father and I—“

“No, no. You did this, my Father would never even think of such a marriage.” She glared at him but he could see that she was hurt more than ever. Perhaps even disappointed but not at him at her Father for agreeing to the marriage.

“Am I that horrible?” he heard her whisper yes. “Would you want me to steal you away like a wildling, to show that I deserve you?”

“I won’t ever let myself be stolen by you. I have never shown you any affection for you to believe otherwise. I hate you.”

“You made yourself very clear.” He was being rejected and that hurt more than he thought.

She got closer to him yet their physical proximity did nothing to bring her closer to him emotionally.

“Not clear enough, for you to propose that I should marry you.” she poked at his chest.

Jon stood and faced her. Yes it was his idea to have her, he wanted her, desired her. She did not back down he knew she wanted to get rid of this arrangement but he would not let her.

“Are you willing to let your people die because you’re too proud to marry me?”

“Proud? Are you willing to let people die because you’re selfish?” her hands crossed her chest. She was wearing her cloak but after their earlier wrestle it was slipping from her shoulders reveling her skin. He turned around to avoid being distracted. “It is not easy to convince my Lords to let your people pass. It is not an easy task.”

She turned him around placing her hands on his forearms she pleaded. “Do you think it would be easy for me? Did you ever stop and think how I would feel?”

Jon was selfish because all he wanted was to kiss her on her stubborn lips and make her fall in love with him. For her to realize that his heart belongs to her if she would have him. He will be selfish, he doesn’t care.

He took her hands away, stepping back to take a sit on his bed. “I have thought about your feelings these past days being your prisoner. How you must have felt when you were in a strange land secluded from your land. I’m sorry.” His throat felt dry. “I must confess to you that I have struggled greatly with my own feelings. I tried in vain to suppress and deny what I felt for… what I feel for you.”

Sansa had grown silent and leaned against the table again. She was listening and that was all that it mattered for Jon to continue.

“Sansa, since the first moment I saw you my mind has never known peace. I am a king and it is expected of me to marry a noble lady from a respectable family. Despite you being a wildling and disappointing my Lords, I am willing to put it all aside to marry you.” He grew silent hoping that she would say anything, there was only silence. “I love you.” He did not regret it. He needed her to hear him.

“You don’t know anything about me. If not, you would know that you would be the last man that I would ever agree to marry.” She wrapped her cloak tightly and left.

Jon could only stare blankly into the open space. He felt the burning sensation of the slaps she had given him but he also felt a burn from his confession. He pushed down the disbelief that a woman would deny him, especially a Wildling. _She could be Queen but chooses to spite me instead._

He couldn’t fall asleep instead he wrote the letter of his return and that he was safe beyond the wall. He did not disclose the marriage details but let his most trusted advisor Davos know that he had come to an agreement with Mance in allowing the Wildlings to settle bellow the Wall.

By the time he decided to leave his tent the camp was a live with people. Many people whispered among themselves making it fairly obvious it was about him yet never acknowledged his presence. He was glad to see the familiar face of Val. He asked her where he could send his letter.

“I’ll show you to the ravens, follow me Jon.” they passed the giant who was carrying wood to a neighboring family.

“Never seen a giant?”

“Can’t say that I have. There are no giants south of the border.” It sounded foreign in his lips that Winterfell was in the South. He gave her a small smile. To his luck they ended up crossing paths with Sansa. She looked at the two of them, her face never betraying her thoughts. Her hair was tightly bound in a braid. She had light gray furs and her cloak covering her head looking more like a cub than ever. He smiled at her he wanted to mention how beautiful she looked but she never fully addressed him.

“Hello, Sansa.”

“Hi Val.” She proceeded to walk away when Val held her arm. “I’m glad that your back I was so worried for you. Please visit me, you need to tell me all about it.”

She gave her a small nod ignoring him completely.

“It seems you are not on familiar terms.”

He wanted to cut the conversation short. “Aye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super grateful of having you all read this story, means a lot to me. I never intended to write a multi-chapter fic for Jon and Sansa but being part of this fandom has encouraged me to continue.
> 
> I'll be revising some past chapters, just poor grammar. So thank you for sticking around and over-looking my mistakes.  
> As always I look forward to reading your comments.


End file.
